


Motels Won't Cut It Anymore

by RockyAlex



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dark Past, F/M, Inspired by Music, May get morbid, Reader-Insert, Romance, Slow Burn, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2018-12-30 13:35:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 36,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12109845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockyAlex/pseuds/RockyAlex
Summary: When something came knocking on your door, or rather, crashing through it, it wasn’t the dark past you’d run away from, but rather two brothers in an old, but sexy, car. They held you at gunpoint, made your crash your bike and ended up saving your life. And from that point on, you were never going to work at a motel again.Hi! First fic posted here, I'd love to know what you think of it. Posting it on tumblr as well as @rocky-alex





	1. Boy, You'll Be A Dead Man Soon

 

“Y/N, for fucks sake, please put on the uniform.” Mike looked completely exasperated at this point.

“We’ve been over this already, it’s a dress. A pink dress at that. I refuse to wear that monstrosity.” You turned your back on your manager to stuff your bag and jacket in one of the empty lockers. 

“You have to, rules and regulations, it’s not up to me.”   
“Oh really?” Eyebrows raised, you turned around to look at Mike. He flinched. “Let me ask you something, Mr. Manager,” you continued. “Would you make the male employees wear that uniform?” You pointed at the dress and apron lying on the counter. 

“What?” Now he looked confused.

“Would you,” you said slowly “make guys wear a pink dress at work?” 

“No, of course not.” You smirked. 

“Well then guess what, Mike, I’m not wearing it either.” Mike groaned and let his head fall on the counter as you left the reception to start work. 

You’d had this job cleaning rooms, and occasionally pulling a graveyard shift at the reception desk, at the Seaside Motel for a couple of months now, having shown up one day after travelling through the States. You’d left your hometown in Sweden after a nasty family fight and were down to change in your pocket. Mike hired you on the spot, even letting you stay at the motel until you found and could afford your own place. The pay was decent, more than enough for the little apartment you ended up in at the edge of the little town close to the motel. If you were smart you could even save a nice little amount each month. 

Being a twenty one-year-old foreigner there weren’t a lot of jobs on the market, so you’d been overjoyed when Mike gave you one. You didn’t mind a hands-on job, you actually quite liked it. Mike was a good boss, despite his insistence on the uniform. That little fact hadn’t come up at the interview, so you refused. A pink dress? Please. You doubted you’d wear it even if Mike decided to threaten you with a gun, much preferring your black t-shirts and jeans, and since you never slacked off and did your job well Mike seemed reluctantly willing to let it slide. It didn’t stop him from trying to talk you into it, though. 

The cleaning cart was in the storage room you’d left it in yesterday. You refilled the supplies, plugged in your headphones and set out to clean the rooms. One of your favourite parts of this job was discovering exactly what people did and left in the rooms. After the first week you’d decided to start a sort of “bucket list” of things to find in a room, everything from used condoms and kinky underwear in the bed to a dead body in the closet. Every time someone left their room you tried to guess what you would find, and so far you’d been right most of the time. But people were seldom exciting. For example, you hadn’t yet guessed on a dead body. 

As your job always proved a perfect opportunity to sing and dance along to your music, and you spun out of the room you had just finished. You made to go knock on the next door and noticed a big old black chevy in the parking lot. If you had to guess, and you were pretty sure, you’d say it was a late 60’s Impala and dear lord was the car sexy. You wanted to admire it more closely, but unfortunately duty called. Hopefully the owner would be staying a while. 

_“Don’t you know… Girl, you’ll be a woman soon.”_ You walked (danced) up to the next room, knocking and calling out “Room service!” There was no reply, so you unlocked the door and went to pull the cart in when you suddenly felt something cold press against your temple. You stopped dead in your tracks and slowly raised you hands. This was a new one. You closed your eyes and focused. There was one more behind you, further in and with the music still playing in your headphones you couldn’t hear if they were saying anything. _Okay you got this, Y/N,_ you told yourself. Before the man holding the gun could reach for you you dropped to the floor. At the same time you turned toward him and landed a punch in his crotch. He dropped to the floor, losing his grip on the gun. You grabbed it and stood up straight, aiming the gun at the other man. However, luck wasn’t on your side, as he also had a gun. Your reached up and damn near ripped off your headphones. As soon as they landed around your neck your heard the man speak. 

“You okay, Sammy?” The man you’d punched had crawled back away from the door, still on the ground. 

“Yeah, I’m good, Dean,” he managed to groan out. You kept your eyes on the man with the gun, Dean apparently. 

“Who are you?” he asked. You raised your eyebrows. You’d have thought the cleaning cart made it obvious, but decided to humour him. 

“I’m the nice cleaning lady who’s come to change your towels.” Dean narrowed his eyes. 

“Okay first of all, you’re not wearing a motel uniform, and second, you’re not supposed to come in here with the DND sign out.” 

“Okay first of all,” you parroted him “the uniforms are pink dresses. Would _you_ wear a pink dress at work? And second, you don’t have a sign on the door.” Dean let his eyes drift to the other man for a few seconds, his mouth opening and closing a few times before hissing “Sam, you didn’t put the sign out?”

“What?” Sam answered. “I thought you were gonna put the sign out!” Dean huffed and looked back at you. 

“So you’re just here to clean?” 

“No I’m here for the autographs,” you deadpanned. “Of course I’m here to clean, it’s my fucking job!” There was silence to a few moments. Then Dean hesitantly lowered his gun. You did the same. However, not trusting these guys at all you kept it in your hand. Dean walked over to Sam, all the while keeping his eyes on you, helping him up on one of the twin beds. Sam seemed to have recovered a bit from the nut crack. 

“How did you do that?” he asked in a strained voice. Damn, you must’ve gotten him good. 

“Do what?” He grinned and gestured to the gun you’d taken from him. 

“How did you react so fast when you felt the gun?” You grinned back.

“Practice, honeypie. Lots of practice.” Dean looked at you in disbelief. 

“Seriously?” You raised an eyebrow. “How come a twenty something girl working in a fleabag motel has ‘practice’ in dodging a gun?” 

“No offence, sugar, but you haven’t exactly earned the right to my life story,” you answered. Dean looked taken aback.

“Well alright then,” he said. He shook his head and gestured toward Sam’s gun. “If that’s all you can go ahead and hand that gun back and be on your way. And we won’t need any more room service.” Giving him a dry smile you placed the gun on the table just inside the door. You left the room and closed the door behind you. Jackass.


	2. Don't Trust The Wannabe Ghostbusters

Usually, when someone holds you at gunpoint at work you report it to the manager, maybe even call the cops. However, Sam and Dean didn’t seem like the bad guys to you, more like they were cautious. Okay, no, not cautious. They were suspicious. Even though you weren’t going to report this to Mike, and thereby have the guys thrown out of their room, you still decided to check how long they were staying. After finishing the rooms you went back to the reception. You were on for a night shift and Mike was more than happy to go home. 

“Take care, Y/N,” he said as he was shrugging on his jacket. 

“You too, Mike. See you tomorrow.” As soon as the door closed behind him you dove for the registry to check the room. Well, well, well, there was no Sam or Dean written up in that room. Instead it was Rory Quill and Peter Williams. The names they’d used made you chuckle. Why a run down, remote motel off a highway required fake names you had no idea. You hadn’t been working when they checked in so you didn’t know who they’d made themselves out to be. Those guys just got more interesting. 

At the moment the best course of action seemed to be to wait them out to find out more. You spent the evening watching the parking lot through the window in the reception. Nothing happened for the first few hours. Thinking they had spent all day in their room you were shocked when you saw a the old chevy from earlier pulling into the parking lot. When you saw Dean getting out of the driver’s seat you jumped out of your chair, ran to the door and opened it. The guys seemed to be in the middle of a heated argument, so of course you eavesdropped.  

“-can’t just go in guns blazing Dean, at least not until we know for sure what we’re dealing with!” Sam seemed to be trying to keep his voice down, not at all succeeding.

“We did the research Sam! This was supposed to be a cut and dry, easy hunt. Neither of us could’ve known he’d have them all under control like that.”

“When has a hunt ever been easy, Dean? And by now you should know better than to just charge in like that because something like this always happens!” 

“What, every case we work there’s a hidden army of ghosts just waiting to get the jump on us?” Sam gave Dean an annoyed you-know-what-I-mean look. It seemed to be well practiced. 

“Look, Sam,” Dean said, walking around the car toward their room. “I don’t see the problem here. We ganked the witch, there was no sign he was in a coven so no one will be coming after us.”

“You set the ghosts free when you destroyed the altar!” 

“For god’s sake, Sam, it was the only way to zap his ass back to zero power, or he would’ve gotten us too.”   
“And now those spirits have been set loose, who knows if they’ll even be able to move on to an afterlife?” Dean turned back to Sam, who hadn’t moved from the car. 

“It doesn’t sound like our problem unless they start killing people on their own.” Sam stuttered and tried to find an answer, but eventually gave up. 

“Alright then,” Dean said. They went into their room and closed the door. 

What the hell. Ghosts? No, no way. This kind of fucked up crazy was why you left your family home in Sweden in the first place. Ghosts didn’t- _couldn’t-_ exist. If they did… No. You didn’t want to go down that road, you couldn’t. Shaking your head you returned to the desk, trying not to think about the conversation you’d overheard. All of a sudden Sam and Dean weren’t very interesting anymore. Instead you wanted them to leave, as soon as possible, and to never come back. 

The shift droned on and on, and when a colleague finally arrived to take over it was 3:00 AM. Exhaustion had taken over and you couldn’t wait for your head to hit the pillow when you got back to your apartment. You shuffled over to the lockers and grabbed your bag before heading outside to the parking lot.  

The cool night air was refreshing and you inhaled deeply, looking up at the sky. There wasn’t enough light from the town down the highway, where you lived, to block out the stars, a fact you loved. Finding the stars up in the sky at night gave you a sense of peace, since the stars were a constant you could always count on. 

You let your head fall back down and dug around in your bag for a pack of smokes. When you placed the cigarette between your lips and went to light up you saw the old chevy still parked in the lot. Even though you most likely would’ve heard the engine you’d still hoped they’d left in the night.

Taking it slow with the cigarette, you took a moment to simply admire the car. You definitely couldn’t deny that the guys had good taste. It was in prime condition, clearly loved. However, the car made you wonder what it was those guys actually did for a living. Old cars like this one weren’t exactly on the cheap end, and yet they chose to stay at a motel as crappy as this one. You stopped yourself. You didn’t want to delve any deeper into the mystery that was Sam and Dean. 

The cigarette had managed burned down to the filter with you being so distracted, so you dropped it to the ground and walked over to your bike. You opened the compartment and switched your bag for you helmet. Casting one last glance at the chevy you started your bike and rolled out of the lot. With a bit of luck Sam and Dean would be gone tomorrow and if they weren’t, you sincerely hoped they remembered to put the sign out this time. 


	3. God Bless This Rock Salt House

The bike purred under you as you revved the engine and sped down the country road, making you smile. Riding your bike, listening to music and feeling the speed was the best part of your day. But the feelings of unease from last night put a definite dampener on your usually good mood when driving. There was something nagging in the back of your head, and you nearly dreaded driving into the motel parking lot. You wanted the chevy to be gone so you didn’t have to think about this whole thing anymore. 

Sam and Dean’s conversation had stirred up old memories that you in no way were ready to deal with yet, but when you’d gotten home last night you were so tired that the mental barriers, that had taken a serious beating, broke. You’d been overwhelmed with memories of your family, and the reason you left your home and fled to the US. You’d seen flashes of your little sister, felt chills go down your spine and been filled with extreme doubt. 

_“She said, god bless this acid house. She said, god bless this acid house, she said…”_

You shook your head. As it were, you couldn’t avoid work and eventually had to arrive at the motel. Just as you went around the corner into the lot a car passed you, way too fast and close to be safe. It was the old chevy. You turned your head looking right at Dean in the driver’s seat, Sam sitting next to him. Your heart started beating faster in your chest, both of them looking back at you. It was like a slow motion scene in an action movie, when the bad guys drive by a cop car, and they just know they’re going to get away with it. 

But the moment, and the car, passed, and you found yourself speeding straight toward a vending machine. You’d completely lost your focus when you saw them, Dean’s crazy driving not helping whatsoever. You hit the brakes hard, and the bike slid sideways and tipped, leaving a trail of sparks as the metal dragged over the asphalt. The bike stopped and you got up, having managed to avoid any serious scrapes. You pulled your helmet off and threw it on the ground. 

“Son of a bitch!” you yelled and turned toward the driveway, seeing that Dean had stopped the car and the guys were getting out. They started walking toward you as you bent down to lift your bike from the ground, trying to keep your temper in check. It had gotten worse when you saw them again, and them wanting to suddenly talk didn’t make things better. 

“Hey, are you okay?” you heard a voice just as a hand touched your shoulder. You jumped, not at all liking one of them touching you. It was Dean. You narrowed your eyes. 

“What do you think, smartass?” The bike was up from the ground, so you bent down to pick up your helmet. Dean was about to say something but you interrupted, holding a finger up as if to shush him. 

“Oh no, big boy, you don’t get to talk.” Dean looked taken aback. “You almost completely wrecked my bike, and me for that matter. Who the fuck drives like that?” You didn’t wait for an answer as you turned away to lead your bike to the staff parking.

You prayed to whoever was listening that it would still run or you would have a hell of a time getting to and from work. The scratches on the side of the bike were bad, but not irreparable. It was the pounding it took when it hit the ground that concerned you. The bike was your baby and you needed it to work. 

All of a sudden you became aware of the footsteps following you. You stopped and turned around. 

“What? What do you want?” The guys stopped in their tracks and Sam lifted his hands defensively. 

“Hey, calm down, alright? We just wanted to apologise and see if you’re okay.” You huffed out a breath. 

“Thanks, I’m fine. I think my bike took the worst of it,” you answered. Sam held out his hand. 

“I’m Sam Winchester, by the way. This is my brother, Dean,” he gestured to Dean. Ooh, brothers. You hesitated, but shook his hand. 

“Y/N Y/L/N.” As you said your name you didn’t miss the sharp look the brothers shared, which just made you more inclined than ever to stay away from them. You took a step back and gripped the handle on the bike. 

“Well, I really have to get to work now, and you guys probably have to hit the road again.” Both Sam and Dean looked like they wanted to say more, but you didn’t give them the chance. When you’d parked the bike you saw Mike waiting in the doorway to the reception, looking behind you at the brothers. Just as you walked past him he shuddered, like he had chills running down his spine. 

“Are you okay, Y/N?” he asked. He seemed to be really worried that you’d been seriously hurt. 

“I’m fine, Mike,” you assured him. He frowned. 

“Are you sure? Because your bike looks beat to shit.” You sighed, going to the lockers to put away your bag. 

“I’m fine _because_ the bike looks like shit. It took the worst hit.” 

“What happened, exactly? I didn’t see anything, just heard the crash.” 

“Well, I was just going in the driveway when that, admittedly really cool, old car sped by me…” 

You told Mike how you’d lost control and all but crashed crashed, but left out just how uneasy those guys made you. You also said that there was no way to determine whose fault the accident had been. Total bullshit, you could easily have blamed the whole thing on Dean, but you didn’t want to draw any kind of attention to yourself, like involving cops would. The circumstances of your stay in the US weren’t the best so you preferred to stay under the radar. 

“Yeah, something about those guys didn’t sit right with me,” Mike said out of the blue. 

“Oh yeah? How come?” You asked. Mike had settled down behind the counter again, and you were leaning against it, fixing your hair and digging out your headphones. 

“Well, for one, they’ve been up all hours of the night. Not unusual, I know,” he said when you cast him a humoured look. “But there was no funny business going down, I’m sure of that.” You didn’t want to know how Mike knew there was no “funny business” going on. It really wouldn’t surprise you if he had some sort of surveillance in each room. Mike might be a nice guy, but he did like to toe the line between slightly paranoid and downright creepy. 

“And second, I could’ve sworn I heard one of them call the other ‘Sammy’, which is neither of the names they checked in under.” Mike leaned back in his chair.

“Yeah I know, I heard it too,” you said. He looked up at you. “They used fake names to register, but they didn’t seem too invested in keeping up the act. They told me their real names after wrecking my bike.” 

“What were the names? Did they say anything else?” Mike asked, looking intently at you. Strange, for being him. Normally, you would’ve expected Mike to pull some joke or other. 

“Sam and Dean. Winchester,” you said hesitantly. 

Suddenly, without seeing how it happened, you were forced away from the counter and held against the wall by your neck. Fear ripped through you and your hands flew to your throat and tried to pry away Mike’s hand. Your feet dangled over the floor. You tried to look down at Mike and caught a glimpse of his eyes. They were black. You screamed, or tried to. All that came out was a strangled gurgle. You started fight even more against his hold, pushing your body away from the wall, anything to loosen his grip. 

“Nah ah,” he said and waggled a finger infront of your face. “None of that now. You’re going to tell me what you know about the Winchesters.” Your head was pounding, you weren’t getting enough oxygen. Your nails dug into the hand on your neck, drawing blood. Mike chuckled. He released his grip and you fell to the floor, collapsing into a heap. You coughed, trying to catch your breath. Your throat burned and was starting to swell. The tears in your eyes weren’t just from the pain. 

That wasn’t Mike anymore, you realised. You were terrified and your body was shaking so hard you were almost convulsing. Not-Mike laughed at you as he walked around the room. He was going to kill you. The kicker was that no one would know. You’d barely made any friends here, and your whole family was back in Sweden. You felt all hope leave your body as he turned his black eyes back on you. 

Then a fucking miracle happened. The door to the reception was ripped open, and Sam and Dean burst through, Dean wielding a strange looking knife and Sam aiming a shotgun at Mike’s chest. Just as Mike turned around to face them Sam pulled the trigger. 

“What the fuck!?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I wrote the story I used the last name Ritchie for the character, as the last name will have a part later on in the story. I didn't use it in this chapter, but let me know if I can in the later chapters. Kudos and reviews make my day, thank you for reading! :D


	4. Motel California

Mike flew across the room, hitting the opposite wall hard. Sam ran across the room to your side, grabbing your arm and pulling you up. 

“We need to get out of here, can you walk?” he asked. You nodded while still looking at Mike. He was getting up, slowly. Dean was standing between him and you, watching his every move. Mike laughed again. It was a horrible sound, cold and downright evil. 

You didn’t get to see what happened to Mike as Sam pulled you out the door and towards their car. Outside in the lot you pulled your arm out of his grasp. 

“What the hell just happened in there?” you asked, out of breath and hurting all over, but still needing to know. Sam looked over your shoulder at the door. You could hear crashes coming from inside, like a big fight was going down. 

“Listen, I don’t have time to explain right now. Please get in the car and wait there.” Sam gestured to the back of the car but you refused to move. 

“No! Not until you answer.” Sam huffed, clearly already fed up with you. 

“Okay, fine,” he said, reloading the shotgun as he walked around you back to the reception. “Just wait here then.” Before you had a chance to object again he left. 

After that the sound of fighting didn’t continue for long, and soon the brothers both walked out. Dean had a cut on his head, the knife in his hand covered in blood. Sam, to your surprise, was laughing. He had your bag in his hand and tossed it over to you. 

“Seriously, Dean, that thing wasn’t even one of the bigshots. How the hell did he end up straddling you, petting your face?” Dean grumbled like a sourpuss and wiped the knife off on the sleeve of his jacket.

“What was that?” Sam asked, grinning. Dean gave him a death glare, and turned to face you. You had no idea what to do now. Run away screaming? Pass out? Puke? Crap your pants maybe? 

What the hell had just happened? 

“Hey,” Dean said, snapping his fingers infront of your face. “You okay?” All you could get out was a weak gurgling sound. You held you bag tightly to your chest. 

“Um, okay, sooo…” Dean looked at a loss for what to do. Sam took over. 

“Do you need a ride home or can you ride your bike?” That got your attention. 

“What do you mean ‘a ride home’?” you asked. “You’re not going to explain what just happened?” You didn’t care anymore, you couldn’t go on not knowing. Hearing them talk about ghosts and actually getting attacked by something clearly not human were two _very_ different things. Sam and Dean looked at each other. 

“You wanna take this one, Sammy?”

“D- ugh…” 

“Okay, good,” Dean said and walked around you to the trunk of the car. Sam sighed and turned to you. 

“Okay, first thing you need to know about us is that we’re the good guys. We hunt monsters. Vampires, werewolves, ghosts, demons, you name it.” You felt the colour drain from your face as he mentioned ghosts. Either Sam didn’t notice or he didn’t care. “That thing back there, that looked like your boss, was a demon.” 

“Wh-what did you do to him?” you asked, your voice shaking. You heard the trunk slam shut behind you. 

“We killed it,” Dean said, going around you again to stand next to his brother. 

“But… How? How do you kill a demon?” Dean gave you a serious look. 

“It’s not easy,” he answered. “They’re extremely dangerous and don’t exactly lie down and just take it. You were lucky, this one wasn’t nearly as strong as others we’ve come across.” Your eyebrows shot up. 

“Lucky? I was _lucky_?” Dean’s face tightened at the tone in your voice. “My boss just tried to kill me, because of you two I might add, and you say I’m _lucky_?” Your voice was getting louder and louder with each word you spoke. 

“Wait what?” Dean interrupted your tirade. “Because of us? The hell is that supposed to mean?” He was frowning now, looking like he wanted to grab you and shake the answers out of you. 

“That’s what set himoff, your names. I’d noticed he was acting weird, but didn’t think much of it.” Dean turned away from you, running a hand down his face. 

“What?” you asked. 

Something was wrong here. Like that… thing… reacting to their names was something bad. Like really bad, but they didn’t want to show it in front of you. The brothers seemed to do some silent communicating before Sam walked around the car to the trunk and Dean spoke again. 

“Listen, Y/N, we need to get you somewhere safe. That demon was alone here but we can’t be sure that there aren’t more coming.” 

“Wait, why do I have to leave? They have no idea who I am.” Dean raked his eyes across the ground before looking back up at you. 

“Well, easy version is that you met us, you know our names and our faces. That’s enough to have painted a big bright bullseye on your back.” Great. Just, great. 

“Okay, fine. I’ll go with you.” Dean got a surprised look on his face, like he expected more arguing. 

“Wow, that was easy.” Rolling your eyes you walked over to your bike. 

“Hey, what are you doing?” You didn’t turn back, but kept walking, digging the keys out of your bag. 

“Let me ask you something, Dean,” you said. “Would you ever leave that car of yours behind?” You heard a distinctly unmanly gasp at your suggestion, and grinned as you put on your helmet. After straddling the bike you held your breath as you turned the key. The engine started without a hitch. 

“It’s alive!” you exclaimed, raising your hands to the sky. A second later you heard Sam snort, and mutter, “You go, Frankenstein.” 

“What?” Dean asked. 

“Never mind…” You grinned as you heard the car doors close. You turned on the headphones in your helmet and your music started up. 

_“You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.”_

You smiled bitterly at the song lyric, and pulled down the visor. You left the parking lot and drove down the country road, the brothers following behind, and left the motel in the dust, for good this time. 


	5. Hunter Of Unknown Origin

Driving down the road toward the little town where you lived was, thankfully, uneventful. But it gave you time to think about everything the brothers had told you. Killing monsters? And… you were forced to admit to yourself, ghosts? What a whacko life to live. You’d believed them when they told you that the thing… the demon, inside Mike was dead. After seeing the blood on Dean’s knife you hadn’t dared ask what had happened to Mike himself. Something told you that the Winchesters didn’t take any chances. Mike was gone, and he wasn’t coming back. 

You finally reached your apartment building and parked just outside. Dean kept driving and parked in the alley between your building and the one next to it. You took off you helmet just in time to hear the car doors creak shut. Despite wanting to just head up to your apartment you waited for them. The demon had shaken you up pretty bad, and you felt jumpy as hell. Sam and Dean came around the corner, and you just caught Dean pulling his shirt down over something in the waistband of his jeans. More guns, awesome. They came up to you on the sidewalk. 

“Will the- Is there a chance that another demon could find my apartment?” you asked. You didn’t want to leave if you could avoid it. Sam gave you a sympathetic look. 

“Probably not, since we killed the one at the motel, but there’s always a chance.” _So you can’t stay here if you want to be sure._ The unspoken words hung in the air. 

“Hey,” Dean said, making you turn your head to look at him. “It’s not all bad. We’ll teach you how to ward off demons and eventually you’ll be able to settle down again, go back to a normal life.” 

“I didn’t have a ‘normal’ life before you two burst into it, I doubt I’ll be able to have one now.” Dean looked at the ground. 

“Yeah, well, you don’t want our life…” 

You looked up at the building. Starting over would be easy. You didn’t have all that many things that meant much to you, but still more than you could take on your bike. That’s, if you wanted to settle down. You played with the thought of going on the road again. Working at the motel had given you a chance to save up some money. You’d almost never splurged on anything, not even your bike, which you’d brought with you across the pond. You turned back to the brothers. 

“Can I go up by myself?” you asked. “I need to deal with some stuff, and then we can leave.” Dean was about to protest but Sam stopped him. 

“Sure, go ahead.” You smiled and headed off toward the entrance. You heard Sam and Dean bickering as you walked away. “- shouldn’t let her go off alone…” “- ’s fine, nothing’s gonna happen…” Aww, they cared about you. 

Going up the stairs to your door was such a habit, you almost felt like it was any other day, and not the last time you would ever be here. It made you kind of nostalgic. This apartment hadn’t been the best place ever to live in, but you’d made it your own and started to see it’s charm. You dug your keys out and unlocked the door. The apartment was quiet and dark, just as you’d left it. You wanted to take some time to walk around one last time, but you had things to do. Taking out your phone you plugged in your headphones and dialled the number for your landlord. 

“Nichols,” a voice answered. 

“Hey Roy, it’s Y/N,” you said as you walked into the bedroom and started putting clothes in a bag. 

“What’s up?” he asked. 

“Well,” you began. “Something’s come up and I need to leave, today.” 

“You coming back?” Never one for small talk, Roy. He was kind of edgy, and didn’t seem to really like anyone. When it came to being a landlord, though, he was really good. He had the kind of no-bullshit attitude you needed to collect rent in a town like this. 

“Not anytime soon, if ever,” you answered. Roy sighed. 

“This is a pain in my ass, and you know it Y/N. You know I need advance notice, and I really can’t afford to have the apartment empty right now.”

“Look, I get it, Roy,” you said, going to the bathroom to collect any and all essentials. “But I have no choice, I have to go.” He sighed.

“Listen, I’m taking all the stuff I need with me, but I have to leave my furniture behind. I’ll try to remove as much of my personal stuff as possible, you keep the furniture to do with as you please.” The place had been empty when you first started renting it, and you had slowly worked on filling it. It was good furniture, nothing broken or dirty in any way, and you figured with the it, Roy could charge a bit more, or sell it to make up for the rent he lost on you leaving so suddenly. 

“Alright,” he said. You’d almost finished packing at this point, just a few things left. You went into the kitchen and opened one of the cupboards, reaching in and loosening a piece of the board in the back. Behind it was your beloved S&W handgun, loaded and ready to go. It, along with your bike, was one of few things you had from home. 

“I’ll swing around during the next hour to drop off the key, alright?” you asked. You took the gun out, along with a box of ammo and an extra clip, replaced the board piece, and went back to the bedroom. 

“Yeah, sure,” Roy answered. “See you soon.” He hung up before you could answer. You placed the gun and the ammo in you bag. You stripped off the clothes you’d worn to the motel, they were torn and bloody, and changed into fresh clothes. Bike boots and leather jacket on, you grabbed your bag and walked out into the small living room. One last thing, then you could leave. The closet in the living room, like the cupboard in the kitchen, had a hidden compartment. You opened it and pulled out a tattered book, your journal. Your whole life the past few years was in this book. Everything from the moment your sister had been brutally murdered right in front of you. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading my story! :D I'm dying to know what you think of it so far, so please let me know :D


	6. Born To Be A Wild Child

You hauled your two bags down the stairwell and out the entrance to the building. You had your most important stuff in a tiny backpack, made to sit close to your body so you could wear it while driving, and two duffels with the rest of your things. You’d decided that you’d feel safer travelling, so you couldn’t bring too much stuff with you. One of the duffels held the stuff you’d promised Roy you’d take with you when you left, and so that was going in the nearest dumpster. Once out the door your saw Sam and Dean were standing on the sidewalk, speaking to each other in low voices. When they heard the door close behind you they stopped talking and turned to you. You stopped in front of them, dropping the bags to the ground. 

“All done?” Sam asked. 

“All done,” you answered. “Just have to drop off the keys to the apartment and get rid of this somewhere on the way.” You gestured to one of the duffels. 

“What, you’re not taking it all?” The brothers looked a bit surprised. 

“No. I decided that I’m gonna go on the road for a bit, and I can’t have too much with me, as it won’t fit on the bike.” Sam and Dean exchanged a look. 

“What?” you asked. Dean turned his head away, leaving it to Sam to explain. 

“We… You can’t go on your own just yet, Y/N,” he said hurriedly.

“… I can’t go on my own?”

“Not yet anyway,” Sam tried to explain. You turned to Dean.

“But you said-”

“I said ‘eventually’,” he cut you off.

“You won’t _let_ me go, will you.” There was no question in your voice. Dean finally looked at you.

“No, we won’t.” There was something in his eyes. Had you taken a guess you would’ve said it was pity, if it weren’t for the complete lack of sympathy or kindness. He knew something about you, they both did. 

“Wanna tell me why?” you asked in a low voice. You looked between them, seeing the answer in their faces. You cleared your throat, which suddenly felt very dry. 

“Let’s go then,” you said and grabbed your bags, looking at Dean. “Okay if I keep these in your trunk?” He nodded and grabbed the bags. 

He and Sam started walking toward the car parked around the corner. You sat up on your bike, looking down on the busted side, running your hands over the scratches. This had been an extremely long day, and it wasn’t over yet. Your plan had been to leave the Winchesters behind and hope you never saw them again. Just because the fact that ghosts existed had been forced in your face didn’t mean you wanted to stick around to find out more. But you knew you couldn’t leave. If they didn’t hesitate when killing someone possessed, you were sure they wouldn’t hesitate in tracking you down, should you try to leave their, not so pleasant, company. 

Suddenly, you heard the chevy roar to life and turned the keys in the bike’s ignition. One thing that seemed to remain the same, despite the horrible scratches she’d had to suffer, was that your baby ran smoothly and didn’t let you down. She started up and you felt the vibrations in your legs. It made you smile. You rolled down the road, stopping just before the alley and waiting for Dean to pull out. 

He stopped the car beside you and Sam rolled down the driver’s side window. Dean leaned over to talk to you. 

“Try to keep up, we’ve got a long drive ahead.”

“Where are we going?” you asked as you buckled you helmet and turned on the headphones.

“Back to Kansas, Dorothy.” You frowned, not getting it at all. Apparently Dean thought it was funny, because he chuckled and pulled the chevy out onto the road. You snorted, following them toward the highway. The song playing in your helmet put you in a good mood, and it certainly fit the situation. You caught up with the brothers and stayed close behind. 

_“Get your motor runnin’. Head out on the highway! Lookin’ for adventure, and whatever comes our way. Yeah darlin’ go make it happen, take the world in a love embrace. Fire all of your guns at once, and explode into space… Born to be wild!”_

When you got up on the highway you pulled up next to the car, keeping pace with Dean. There weren’t any other cars on the road at the moment, so the drive was peaceful. You drove for hours until the sun started going down and Dean finally decided to stop for the night. It was a small town, similar to the one you’d just left, and you followed the chevy to a small motel just off the town’s main road. Seriously? After what had just happened? 

You parked next to the Winchesters and got off your bike. Ow. It had been ages since you rode for so long without stopping for a break, and there would be more of this tomorrow. You bent down to stretch your legs and swung your arms around. You heard the car doors open and looked over at Dean. 

“Really? Another motel?” He shrugged his shoulders. 

“Take it or leave it, Dorothy.” Nooo… You desperately hoped this wouldn’t become a thing. 

“Fine.” 

After locking your helmet in the bike’s compartment you walked over to the car to grab your bags. Now that the drive was over, you started tensing up again. You weren’t here for the adventure after all. However, you refused to go quietly. You wanted answers, such as what they knew about you, why was the demon interested in them, and how could you determine if a ghost was… No. Not now. First things first, getting a room. Sam, apparently was already on it as Dean unlocked the trunk, and you got a first peek inside. Dean pulled out the four duffels in there, yours, his and Sam’s. Then he lifted the bottom of the trunk and- what the fuck? 

Dean noticed your staring and looked back down in the trunk. 

“Yeah, that…” he said slowly. He sounded kind of sheepish, which you found really weird because the guy had a fucking arsenal in his trunk. 

“Yeah, Dean. _That,_ ” you said. “Who the hell needs this many guns and knives? And…” A light coloured box caught your attention and you went to grab it, but Dean caught your wrist in a tight grip, moving it away from the trunk. 

“Nah ah, don’t touch anything,” he said and let go of you. “As for the guns and knives…You’d be surprised how many tools you need in this line of work.” He opened a smaller duffel and started to fill it with all kinds of weapons, like shotguns, because why not? A few knives went in too before he closed the trunk. He turned back to you. 

“Uhuh,” you said and narrowed your eyes. Dean frowned. You bent down to pick up your bags, seeing Sam coming back from the reception. You passed Dean and clapped him on the shoulder. “Looks like we got a room, big boy. Let’s go.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you get my "Dorothy" reference :P


	7. Bang Bang, My Parents Shot Me Down

So this was how it was going down. Face to face in a rundown motel room in Idaho. This could make or break you. Sam and Dean had made it clear that you couldn’t go off on your own, despite the risk of a demon finding you being low. It was time to find out why. 

The brothers were sitting at the table by the front window. Dean actually had the nerve to casually sip a beer. _Off track, Y/N_ , you reminded yourself. You were standing by the beds, running your hand through your hair repeatedly. The brothers hadn’t said anything yet, seemingly waiting for you to go first. Nope, not happening. 

“So what’s the deal?” you finally asked. “How- _why_ , did you recognise my name? Because I know you did. And why was the demon interested in you?” After sharing a look with his brother, Dean put his beer down on the table, leaning one arm on each side of the bottle. 

“We only know your last name, Ritchie,” he began. “Your family made quite a name for themselves a couple years back. The parents, your parents, I guess, made a public announcement saying they had lost both of their daughters in a break-in that resulted in murder.” You felt your jaw drop. What the hell? They’d lied? But… You snapped your head up to meet Dean’s eyes. 

“That doesn’t explain the way you reacted to my name, the way you’ve been acting. You could’ve told me this back in Oregon instead of making me uproot my life like this.” 

“We know,” Dean said. 

“The story was a fake, we knew that right away,” Sam took over. “Believe it or not, it didn’t even take that story to put your family on our radar. They were kind of notorious even before that.” 

“Well, yeah,” you said, confused. “My dad had his own company, built it from scratch, traded internationally…” 

“No, not because of that-” 

“Daddy dearest wasn’t all that dear, Y/N,” Dean interrupted. “Look, Sam explained how we hunt monsters, right?” You nodded. “Right. So there’s this whole other world humans don’t know about, and the population isn’t exactly small. Add the fact that the promise of power and control is as seductive to monsters as it is for humans, maybe even more, and you’ve got yourself a bargaining chip.” Sam gave a small, distracted nod. He’d gotten up from the table, standing by the window, like he was keeping watch.

“And this has to do with my family, how?” you asked, getting more annoyed by the second. 

“Everything, actually,” Sam said, looking away from the window. “While still remaining human, your family traded with the draculas of the world. Your father was especially successful, he worked to build something more for monsters than just living in nests or packs. A hierarchy. This was mostly in Scandinavia and Europe. But unlike his predecessors he wasn’t careful enough to avoid detection from people like me and my brother. Hunters found out about your family, and many started to work against your father. That’s when your sister and you, supposedly, died. We think it really got to your father because he shut down his trade with the monsters and stepped down as CEO of his company after that. No one could find out what actually happened to either you or your sister, until now.” 

Tears were running down your face. Your family had covered up your sister’s murder, and killed you along with her. 

“What date?” you asked in a low voice, clutching your arms over your chest. 

“What?” Sam asked. 

“What date?!” you yelled this time. “What date did my parents announce my ‘death’?” 

“July 23rd, 2013.” 

“Two days,” you whispered. “They couldn’t get rid of me fast enough…” You laughed and turned away from the Winchesters. 

“Well at least now I understand the look on your faces when I introduced myself.” You turned back to them, wiping the tears off your cheek. The looks they gave you… 

“I don’t want your pity,” you snapped. “ _I_ left my family, it was _my_ decision. And I had a damn good reason.”

“Which was?” Dean asked. You scoffed, giving him an incredulous half-smile. 

“Really?” 

“Darling, I’d say we’ve definitely earned the right to your life story. So talk.” You bit your cheek to stop yourself from going off on him. 

“Fine.” You crossed your arms and started tapping your foot. You’d never actually told anyone about what happened to your sister, and if what Sam and Dean had told you was the truth, you and your parents were the only ones who knew the truth. The backpack with your essentials was lying on the bed next to you, and you opened it to take out your journal. You held it in your hands, took a deep breath, and started talking.

“As you know, two years ago my sister died. That’s when everything cracked. My parents weren’t lying when they said she was murdered, but it didn’t happen they way they described. No one broke into our house with the intent to steal anything. No one broke in at all.” A long buried pain made itself known in your chest as you spoke. You hated this, telling perfect strangers about how the most important person in the world to you had died. The tears started running again, and this time you didn’t bother to wipe them off. 

“I heard her scream in the other room. I ran as fast as I could to get to her.” You took a shaky breath. 

“It didn’t matter, I was too late to do anything. When I got to her room I saw a man standing over her, holding her down on the floor.” The memory started to flash before your eyes. You’d buried it so deep and now you were forced to relive it. “He was… He was pressing his hand into her back. I could hear her ribcage cracking, but she kept screaming. She kept screaming until the man finally broke through to her heart… He ripped it out of her chest.” You didn’t have the strength to look at the brothers, and so kept your eyes on the journal in your hands. You were sobbing now. “It only took a few seconds, I didn’t have time to react, but it felt like minutes, hours. She was already dead when I found my voice and screamed her name. The man looked up, her heart still in his hand and then…” You shuddered. “He just… disappeared. His body just sort of flickered for a moment and then he was gone. The heart disappeared along with him.” Sam and Dean were dead silent. You forced yourself to look up at them when you said the next part. 

“I told my parents what had happened, what I’d seen. They shut me down and demanded that I never speak of it again, that they were going to handle it.” Your voice still shook, but now it was from anger. The hypocrisy of the whole thing, it was unbelievable. “I left that night, without looking back, because I couldn’t stay there while trying to convince myself of the truth my parents pushed for. They said the terror I’d felt at seeing my sister die made it seem like the man had just vanished. So, I forced myself to believe them. That their so-called truth was more important than their daughter being dead was the kicker that sent me to the curb. I haven’t heard from them since. I doubt they even know whether I’m alive, much less where I am.

“I overheard your argument in the parking lot at the motel,” you said, which made Dean look up from his hands and Sam look up from the floor. “You were talking about ghosts and it… It got to me. My first thought had been that a ghost killed my sister, and now after spending two years convincing myself otherwise I wasn’t ready to accept it when I heard you talking about it so seriously.” You sighed and turned to sit down on one of the beds. “If I did it would mean my parents did indeed know what happened and didn’t care about my sister at all.” 

It was silent for a long time after you finished talking. 

“What was her name?” Sam asked suddenly. You looked up at him across the room, smiling lightly through the drying tears. 

“Leah.” 


	8. Shake It Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reader's bike is a Harley Davidson Superlow, and I love it :D

 

“There is one thing you still haven’t told me,” you said. “Actually it’s what I wanted to know the most. Why am I here?” 

“Quite simple, really,” Dean said. “Like Sam said, your family has a rep. These days it’s not a good one, so your name puts you in danger, especially from people sprouting fangs.” 

“And you’re gonna keep me safe? You don’t even know me, why do you care what happens to me?” They stayed quiet, and it occurred to you.

“That’s not the whole reason, is it?” You were neither surprised not hurt. As you’d said, they didn’t know you and you didn’t know them. Keeping you safe from monsters couldn’t be high on their to-do list. 

“You want to know what I know about my family.” Neither Dean nor Sam denied it. 

“Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but I was never invested in the family business. I can’t help you.” Silence reigned for at least a minute before Sam looked back up at you. 

“Y/N, you can still come with us until you figure out what to do next,” he said. You thought about it. You’d already planned to go on the road, but to be honest, the thought of another attack made you uneasy. Until you learned more about the Winchesters’ world, staying with them seemed like the best option. 

“Okay,” you said. “But for right now, I need out of this room. I’m hungry.” With that, you grabbed your jacket and walked out of the room. 

You and the Winchesters ended up at a local bar. To your absolute joy it was karaoke night. Time to get plastered. You didn’t care at all that you would be driving all day tomorrow. Worst case scenario, which would be groaning on the floor, unable to get up all day, you’d _maybe_ let one of the brothers drive your baby. _Maybe_. But that time hadn’t come yet. 

Sam and Dean followed you as you sat down in a booth, close to the stage where people were already up, singing their favourite songs. The stage called to you, and determination filled you to the brim. Dean noticed the direction of your stare and immediately became suspicious. 

“You’re not gonna sing, are you?” You turned your eyes on him, face blank. Dean realised you were serious. “No, please no, Y/N.” Now you grinned. 

“Sammy, you gotta stop her,” Dean pleaded, turning to his brother. Sam laughed. You decided to ease Dean’s worries a bit. 

“Don’t worry, Dean, you’ll have time to get used to the idea.” Suspicion filled his face. 

“What does that mean?” 

“It means,” you said, and picked up you menu, “that sober karaoke is not nearly as fun.” 

That, at least, seemed more up Dean’s alley. Soon both of you had drinks on the table, and you waited for the food to arrive. Sam decided to stick to water, like he sensed something was going down. Boy, was he right. After finishing your food you decided it was time for a couple shots. 

“Damn, Dorothy!” Dean exclaimed, having decided to have a shot too. “For a girl your age you certainly can drink.” You wiped your mouth. 

“Practice, honeypie. Lots of practice.” That made both the brothers laugh. You grinned and grabbed you jacket. 

“I will be right back, smoke break.” Before either one of them could protest you went outside and lit up. 

Knowing that the smoke would make the alcohol kick in for real you took it slow, enjoying the chilly air outside the bar. You looked through the window, seeing Sam and Dean laughing at something, having a good time. It struck you that up till now it had seemed like neither one of them were the type of people to barely even tell a joke. They were hard and serious when you met them and had been since then, Dean more so than Sam. Every time you’d spoken to Dean he’d been kind of harsh, like he was testing you. However, his nickname for you, while making no sense at all, told you he wasn’t all stone and cared, at least a little. You could roll with that, and you still had to find the perfect one for him. Sam though, was the one who’d asked you if you were okay when you crashed your baby. He’d pulled you out of the room when Mike attacked you. Most importantly, he’d cared enough to ask your sister’s name. Both of them were growing on you now, when you got to see them more relaxed. Sam looked out the window and your eyes met. You smiled at him and he smiled back. You finished your cigarette and stomped it out, feeling your head spin pleasantly. It was time. 

You stopped by the booth to drop you jacket on the seat and looked intently at Dean. 

“It’s time,” you said solemnly. He looked slightly panicked but you walked away before he could stop you. You walked up to the guy running the karaoke and requested your song. He grinned. There were a few people on the list before you so you walked back to the boys and sat down. 

“Which song?” Dean asked as soon as your ass hit the fake leather seat. 

“Not telling, you’ll have to wait and see.” Dean pouted. He’d really gotten his drink on this evening, and it showed. 

You were in the middle of a heated discussion with the brothers when your name was called. Finally. You got up from your seat and walked over to the karaoke guy. He handed you a microphone and you took the stage. Despite his objecting to you singing, Dean pulled Sam up from their seat and they joined the small crowd by the stage to watch you. The second the song started you saw Dean freeze, and then his mouth twitched, like he was fighting a grin. 

_“I stay out too late, got nothing in my brain_

_That's what people say, that's what people say_

_I’ve had way too many drinks, and I can barely sing_

_At least that's what people think, that's what people think”_

Shockingly, Dean suddenly started singing along. He tried to hide it, but he definitely liked this song. Sam on the other hand, was just laughing.

“ _But I keep cruising_

_My blue Harley moving_

_It's like I got this music in my head_

_Saying it's gonna be alright”_

The buzz in your body made it easy to just let go, and you danced along to the music as you sang. 

“ _Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake_

_I shake it out, I shake it out!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So changing the lyrics is a nod to the Hillywood Show's amazing parody.  
> Also, I just finished watching the last episodes of season 12, and it kinda broke me a little...


	9. If You're Going To Ride My Baby

You hated yourself. And Dean. Especially Dean. This was all his fault. You’d started the whole thing, you knew that, but he kept it going. So yeah, blaming him sounded pretty good right about now. You didn’t dare crack your eyes open just yet, settling for just listening to what was going on around you. Turned out, Sam had gotten you your own room, which you really appreciated at the moment. You heard groaning coming from the room next to yours, and the fact that Dean was suffering right along with you filled you with glee. It was what he deserved, the not so little shit. 

You weren’t allowed to stay in bed for long. A few minutes later there was an obnoxious knock on your door. 

“Go away!” you groaned. Instead of going away, whoever was at the door had the nerve to open it and come inside. You blearily turned your head toward your intruder and saw Sam standing in the doorway. 

“Wow,” he said. “You look even worse than Dean, I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Could you not shout?” You slowly sat up, holding your pounding head in your hands. Sam just laughed. “Just please stop with the loud noises,” you begged. To your relief he did. You heard him walk to the bathroom and then the tap running. His footsteps returned and you saw a glass appear under your eyes. 

“Drink up.” 

You took the glass from his hand and held it up in front of you. You thought about drinking the water and your stomach started roiling. Sam looked expectantly at you. 

“Nope. Nope, nope, nope,” you said. You put the glass on the floor and ran to the bathroom and got to the toilet just in time. Never again would you consume that much alcohol that fast. You’d actually woken up in the middle of the night, feeling completely fine. You’d known something was wrong, your hangovers were usually legendary. Now you knew why. 

“Uughhh…” you groaned and lay your head gently against the cool porcelain of the toilet. Sam dared to peek around the corner. You looked up at him. 

“Can I please just have until lunchtime?” He frowned. Geez, what was the hurry? You’d get wherever you were going eventually. “Please, Sam,” you begged. “I can’t drive like this, and there’s no way I’m letting one of you jumbo’s drive my baby.” Sam sighed. 

“Just as well, I guess. I don’t think Dean’s good to drive either, despite what he says.” 

“Great,” you said thankfully.

You’d passed out again after losing everything in your stomach. Sam had made you swallow a couple glasses of water and an advil before letting you sleep. You woke up a couple hours later, just before midday. Feeling much better you stretched before getting up. You gathered your things and left the room. Sam and Dean were already standing by the car, tossing their things in the trunk. You walked over and put yours in as well.

“Feeling better, Y/N?”

“Much,” you answered Sam, looking at Dean. He looked like shit, eyes saggy and squinting in the sunlight. Your one victory seemed to be that your hangover passed quicker than his. 

“How you doing over there, Tay tay?” 

“Bite me, Dorothy.” You cackled, watching him wince. “Let’s go, I need coffee.” 

The diner wasn’t anything special, but they had hot, strong coffee and bacon, both things you craved at the moment. To your slight disappointment, Dean recovered fast once he got his hands on a cup of joe. Sam interrupted your thoughts. 

“So we can talk to you while you’re driving?” You shook your head and looked at his phone. 

“Yeah, my helmet has speakers and a microphone, hooked up to my phone through a cord. It also works over bluetooth,” you explained. “This way I can listen to music, and take calls when I need to. I have a controller on the handlebar so I don’t have to move or lift my hands. That one is connected to both the speakers and my phone through bluetooth.” Sam looked kind of impressed and you gave a small laugh. 

“I used to travel a lot before settling down in Oregon, and I love music.” 

“Yeah? What do you listen to?” His interest caught you off guard, but made you smile. 

“A lot of different things. At the moment it’s a mixlist with mostly random classic rock songs.” Dean raised his head. 

“Really?” Oh it’s on.

“Try me”

“Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door.” 

“Pfft, please. Bob Dylan.” Dean pursed his lips and nodded.

“You’re good,” he said. He looked at the clock on the wall. “Time to hit the road,” he continued and got up from his seat, leaving a few bills on the table. You saw him catch the waitress’ eye across the room and wink, smiling at her. Ugh.

Just like yesterday, you followed behind Dean until you got to the highway. Before you started driving you’d asked Sam which directions to follow, and finally found out your more exact destination. Lebanon, Kansas. Now able to just follow road directions you could relax a bit. Dean drove like a maniac, and while you had had no problem keeping up with him the day before, it was nice to know that if you lost track of them in heavier traffic you’d still know where to go. 

The highway was deserted, so you drove up next to the chevy again. Dean honked the horn, so you glanced to the side, seeing him giving a slight wave before stepping on it. No way. You revved the engine, easily catching up. You didn’t slow down but instead flipped Dean the bird and drove past, going in front of him. You smirked under the visor of your helmet. Reckless you may be, but Dean was annoying. It was worth it. The next song on the list came on and you smiled at the familiar guitar sound. 

_“I took my baby on a saturday bang,_

_Boy is that girl with you_

_Yes, we’re one and the same_

_Now I believe in miracles_

_And a miracle has happened tonight_

_But if you’re thinkin’ about my baby_

_It don’t matter if you’re black or white”_

The sun was shining high in the sky, you had your baby, and the chevy behind you couldn’t keep up. Life was good, considering your circumstances. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my story :D I'd love your input on it, if I've missed something or ways I can improve my writing :) 
> 
> This story is inspired by the list the reader talks about, which I listen to constantly when I write, and each chapter is inspired by their own song (sometimes several songs).


	10. Long, Long Way Back Home

It had taken you almost two whole days to drive from Oregon to Kansas, and you’d made one more stop at a motel along the way. While driving, a sort of competition had arisen between you and Dean, seeing who could stay infront of the other the longest. Dean had a harder time cornering you and drive past, since your bike was way smaller than his (sexy) beast of a car. After a while Sam had called you and asked you to stop, since apparently Dean wasn’t listening to him. He said something about getting busted for speeding, so you reluctantly slowed down and discreetly let Dean take the lead. 

At the second motel the brothers had given you the demon, ghost and monster 101. Salt, holy water, iron and silver were basic tests to check if someone under suspicion was human or not. You learned that it never hurt to carry a pocketknife and a lighter, and demons could be trapped with spraypaint to later be slammed back in the pit with a latin verse. Which apparently, you had to learn to recite from memory. 

_“Exorcizamus te, omnis imundus spiritus, omnis satanica protestas-”_

“ _Po_ testas,” Sam interrupted. You groaned. “It’s okay, just try again,” he encouraged. 

_“Exorcizamus te, omnis imundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis et secta diabolica. Ergo, draco maledicte. Ecclesiam tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire,_ _te rogamus, audi nos.”_ You took a deep breath. 

“Nice work, Y/N,” Dean said. “Now, there’s one more thing you should know how to do.” He reached to the back of his jeans and pulled out his gun. He put it on the table and smiled. You smiled back, holding his gaze. Dean’s face went blank. 

“You already know how to use a gun, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question. You reached for your backpack, pulled out your gun and laid it on the table next to Dean’s. 

“Like I said before, honeypie. Lots of practice.”   
“Well alright then, I guess that’s it.” He picked his gun back up and stuck it in the back of his jeans. 

Just as you passed the “Welcome To Kansas” sign you looked down at the fuel gauge and noticed you really needed to fill up on gas as soon as possible. You clicked the button on the controller to dial Sam’s number and heard the dial tone. 

“Hey, Y/N.” Sam answered. 

“Hi, Sam.” 

“What’s up?”

“I’m getting really low on gas, I need to stop and fill up before we get to the bunker.” That was another thing the brothers had shared, that they lived in a secret bunker filled with all kinds of lore, spells and weapons to fight monsters with. That’s where you were headed now, and you’d gladly taken Sam up on his offer to have you stay with them a few days. 

“Yeah, okay,” Sam said. You heard Dean talking in the background. “Pit stop,” Sam explained, then turned his attention back to you. “There’s a gas station a couple miles up the road, we can stop there.”

“Great, thanks.” 

A few minutes later you pulled into the station and could fill up your baby. Dean headed into the store to… Actually, you had no idea what he was going to do. You finished up and headed inside to pay. You saw Dean by the magazine stand, in the… Oh geez, the porn section. You grabbed a few essentials, like chocolate, coke and whiskey, payed for it and headed outside again. Sam was leaning against the car, looking at something on his phone. When you got closer he looked up and frowned. 

“Where’s Dean?” You snorted. 

“I figured as his brother and travel companion, you’d be able to guess by now.” Sam groaned in realisation. “Yupp,” you said. “Porn section.” Just then, Dean came out with a bag in hand that was suspiciously magazine shaped, looking very pleased with himself. 

Half and hour later you pulled up to a big brick building and stopped infront of a huge door. Dean got out and unlocked it, while Sam slid over to the driver’s seat. You followed Sam down into what was obviously the bunker’s garage. It was big. Seeing other bikes parked along the wall you drove in next to them and got off your bike. Sam had parked further in, and now walked back to close the inner doors. You joined him as he walked back to the car and pulled your bags from the trunk. 

“This is amazing,” you said, gesturing to all the old cars parked in the garage. Sam smiled and locked the trunk. 

“The rest of the bunker is even better. You have no idea how happy we were to find this place, it’s become a home to us. We have separate rooms, fresh bathrooms, a kitchen…” He trailed off as you headed inside. You could tell he really meant it. They’d told you they used to really live on the road, and done so for most of their lives. You realised now that the bunker was more than just a base of operations. It was something the brothers could rely on, come back to. Suddenly you felt a bit like an intruder, like you shouldn’t be here. You shoved it down. Since it was partly their fault that you had to leave your own home, you felt you could shamelessly intrude on their hospitality for a short while.

You walked behind Sam as he headed up the stairs. At the top Sam opened a door and you came out into a huge room lined with a staircase and old radios, a big lit up table taking up space in the middle of it. Turning your head you could see another huge room, this one lined with high shelves filled with books. Tables and chairs stood in a line going through the room. You felt your mouth drop open a bit at seeing it all. 

“When you guys said bunker…” you trailed off.

“We actually meant ‘hunter’s bat cave’,” Dean said, appearing beside you. You turned to him and Sam. 

“This,” you said, gesturing around you. “is fucking awesome. And you guys live here?” 

“Yupp, and we got plenty of rooms, just through there,” Dean pointed to a doorway just behind you, “so you just go ahead and pick one.” 

“Don’t mind if I do,” you replied and started walking. Then you stopped and turned back to the brothers. “Mind if I take a shower?” 

“Help yourself, bathroom’s around the corner from the bedrooms.”

“Thanks!” you threw over your shoulder as you headed through the doorway. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took some liberty with the bunker’s garage, since I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen how they get the car in and out of the garage…


	11. Do You... Like Me?

The shower was amazing. Like really, truly amazing. The water was hot, the pressure was perfect and it didn’t have an annoying drape, but a cubicle door. In your old apartment you had damn near gone crazy over the shower drape that insisted on wrapping around your legs whenever the water ran too warm. But not here.

_“Do you love me? I can really move. Do you love me? I’m in the groove.”_ In the shower, everyone is a famous rockstar with the most amazing voice and adoring fans. Obviously.

The soap and shampoo ran down your body as you rinsed out your hair. It felt amazing after two days on the road. Motel showers were never quite satisfactory, and so now you’d gotten to understand the Winchesters’ joy over the bunker. When you turned off the water and got out of the shower you looked around for towels. You felt your cheeks heat up when you realised there were none. At least not in this bathroom. Shit! 

You looked down at the clothes you’d thrown on the floor, which you really didn’t want to put back on… You thought about it for a moment. It was just a short sprint to the room you’d picked out. Sam and Dean were most likely elsewhere in the bunker, doing hunter stuff. You picked up your clothes and tried to cover yourself as best you could before opening the door to see if anyone was out there. Seeing the all clear you tiptoed out of the bathroom, looking back behind you as you walked faster. Just as you turned the corner someone appeared before you. 

The water still running down your body to your feet made the floor slippery and it was impossible to stop in time. Sliding right into a firm chest and promptly bouncing off with an exclaimed “oomph”, you fell to the floor in a mess of limbs and clothes. 

“Y/N!” It was Sam’s voice, thank god. You didn’t think you could deal with the jokes Dean would have pulled had you run naked into him. 

“Are you-” Sam stopped talking suddenly. After detangling yourself you looked up, and saw he had his back turned to you. It was then you realised the clothes you were carrying had also fallen to the floor and you were completely bare for the world to see. You hastily grabbed your t-shirt and covered yourself as best you could. 

“You okay?” Sam asked, looking up to the ceiling. 

“Mortified, but fine.” 

“What were you doing?” You gathered the rest of your clothes and stood up. 

“No towels in the bathroom,” you answered him. “Listen, I’m gonna walk around your left side to get to my room. Just keep turning the other way.” You walked around him and he did as you asked. You stood with your uncovered back to the wall as you opened the door to your room and all but fell inside. The door closed with a bang and you crumpled to a heap on the floor. Great. Just fucking great. You pulled yourself up from the floor and walked over to your bag, the one you’d planned on throwing away but now thanked the stars that you hadn’t. You dug out a towel and started drying yourself off. After wrapping your hair up to let the fabric soak up the water you started getting dressed. 

The scene in the corridor had you seriously contemplating staying in your room for the rest of the day, but your stomach had other plans. It growled, loudly and obnoxiously, as if it wasn’t aware of your utter mortification. Sam had seen you naked. The thought slapped you in the face like a tree branch. You sat down on your bed and absentmindedly started to dry your hair. The thought hadn’t crossed your mind before, because honestly it hadn’t occurred to you to see them that way, but both Sam and Dean were kinda hot. Actually, _very_ hot. Having had a close up with Sam’s chest you knew it wasn’t just their faces they had going for them. And now one of them had seen you naked. Awesome. 

You’d taken as long as you could drying your hair, so you walked out the door and headed back to the big room you’d first come into. It didn’t take you long to find the cozy little kitchen, and to your absolute embarrassment both the brothers were sitting at the table. 

“Hey,” Dean said in way of greeting. “Get settled alright?” You saw Sam’s shoulders tense a bit. 

“Uh, yeah.” You turned your attention to Dean. “Yeah, found a room. Thanks again.” 

“Hey, no problem.” Sam didn’t look at you so you walked over to the fridge to search for food. Dean noticed the tension. 

“Something happen between you two?” You ignored him and looked up and down the shelves. They had nothing, like at all. “Hey, Sammy, what’s up?”

“It’s nothing, Dean.” 

“So it _is_ something.” Not wanting to bear witness to whatever well-rehearsed interrogation that was about to take place, you turned back to the brothers. 

“You have absolutely no food here.” 

“What are you talking about? There’s pizza in the fridge,” Dean said, looking affronted. You sighed. 

“As far as I know, that pizza has been there for at least three days, most likely more. No way.” Now you were looking in the pantry. It, like the fridge, was empty. “I’ll go get some real food.” 

“Want to use the car?” Astonished, you turned to Dean with a smile. 

“I didn’t think you had it in you, big boy.” 

“Oh believe me, I do not take this lightly. Just figured it’d be easier than hauling groceries on that little bike of yours.” He tossed you the keys just as you narrowed your eyes. 

“Careful how you speak about my baby, Dean.” You left the kitchen and swung by your room to get your jacket before going down to the garage. Sam was there, unlocking the doors. He wouldn’t look at you. Okay, enough with the tension, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Hey, Sam,” you said. He looked up. “Don’t worry about earlier, it wasn’t your fault. Thank you for turning away like you did.” You gave him a smile which he returned. 

You unlocked the door to the Impala and sat down on the soft leather seat. Holy shit this car was nice. It smelled of leather and gunpowder, but it was clear Dean loved it. Theres wasn’t a spot of dirt in sight. With both of the Winchesters being taller than you the seat was too far back, so you felt underneath for a lever. You found it and moved the seat up quite a bit. Then you decided to raid Dean’s music stash for some road tunes and found a whole bunch of cassettes in the glove compartment. Riffling through them you found one you liked. After adjusting the mirror you put the key in the ignition and started the engine. It was even better when sitting in the car. It roared to life, making you damn near shiver. Dean’s car didn’t beatyour baby, it never would, but it was damn nice. 

You managed to move the car around enough to get out the garage door. Once outside on the road you popped the cassette into the player. 

_“Back in black! I hit the sack, I’ve been too long I’m glad to be back.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Question, do I have any twilight, specifically Jasper, fans out there? Having just seen a new movie (not saying which one) while reading "I see dead people" by bloodyblond (which is amazing) over on ff.net I'm feeling very inspired to write a Jasper/Bella story. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone for reading my story, the pace will pick up eventually, there's a lot of build-up. And special thank you to Ana Everett for giving me her thoughts on the reader in this story, it made me very happy and motivated :D


	12. That's How The Superheroes Learn To Fly

“What’s all this?” Dean asked as you hauled several bags of groceries into the kitchen. 

“Food, Dean. You eat it.” He looked suspiciously at one of the bags. 

“This green stuff, Alex. As in rabbit’s food.” You started unpacking the food and put it away in the freezer and fridge. 

“It doesn’t hurt to get a little iron and fibres in your body. And protein that doesn’t come with five billion saturated fats.” 

“Come on, is that even english?” Dean looked a little panicked, like your arrival meant the end of bacon-cheeseburgers. It was evil, but fun. From what you could seen, though, the brothers used up all the extra calories, and then some. And it wasn’t up to you to decide what they ate, so you’d bought stuff you thought both of them would like, plus some of your own favourites. You unpacked some frozen goods, soda, pasta, some different kinds of meat, bread, cheese, snacks and other condiments. When Dean saw the rest of the stuff you’d bought he looked downright relieved.

“I thought you were gonna put me on a Sam-diet.” 

“Your clogging arteries are none of my business, Dean.” He huffed and left the kitchen. 

You took the pasta, a can of crushed tomatoes and some spices you’d gone ahead and bought while you were at it, since you figured the bunker kitchen wouldn’t be stocking what you wanted. You set a pot of water on the stove to boil and opened the can. Pasta with tomato sauce, fast and easy. 

The bunker was not equipped with any kind of sound system, not surprising, considering how old it was, and that before Sam and Dean found it, it had been empty for over fifty years. You didn’t have the energy to go get your own speaker, so for now headphones would have to do. You scrolled through your list, and found one that fit your mood. The music started up and while you cooked you clapped along on your leg. 

About fifteen minutes later your dinner was finished and you grabbed a soda and sat down at the table. Just as you were about to take the first bite of pasta Sam and Dean walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table, one on either side of you.You were tired, and honestly just wanted to eat and then go back to your room. But apparently that wasn’t going to happen just yet. You put your fork down and pulled off your headphones. Sam and Dean shared a look, and things got serious. 

“We need to clear some things up,” Sam finally spoke up. 

“Like what?” 

“You remember what we told you about demons? That they can possess anyone they want?” 

“Yeah…” you answered, not sure where they were going with this. 

“There are ways to prevent that from happening, the easiest of which is to wear one of these.” He dug a thin silver bracelet out of his pocket. On it was a tiny charm, a pentagram. 

“It’s an anti possession charm, keeps demons out.” He handed you the bracelet. “It has to be worn all the time, never take it off or it kinda defeats the purpose…” There was something in his voice… 

“What’s the downside?” you asked. 

“The downside,” Dean said. “Is that you can lose it, or a demon can decide to rip it off to be able to use you as a meatsuit.” You looked back at Sam. 

“You said ‘ways’?” 

“The other is a tattoo.” 

“A tattoo? Seriously?” 

“Yeah,” he said and opened the top few buttons of his shirt and pulled it down to reveal the same symbol as the charm on the bracelet, only bigger, inked on his collarbone. 

“How long have you had those?” you asked. Dean snorted and Sam’s face went a bit red. There was a story there, you just knew it.

“Several years,” he answered. “But even here there’s a risk, as it can be burned or cut from your skin. Best thing is to have it somewhere it won’t show.” You leaned back in your chair, chewing your lip. 

“Not afraid of needles, are you?” Dean asked, his voice kind of mocking. 

“Please, like this would be my first tattoo.” You didn’t notice the looks on both brothers’ faces, as you’d turned you attention back to your bowl of pasta

“So,” you said several minutes later, and looked up from your bowl. “When do I get the tattoo?”

“As soon as possible,” Sam answered. “We could go tomorrow if you want.” 

“Sounds good.” You got up from your chair and went over to the sink to do the dishes. When you were done you grabbed another soda, gave the brothers a half-hearted salute and left the kitchen. You put your headphones back on as you walked to your room. Time had flown by, it seemed, since you had arrived at the bunker, and it was getting really late. You were exhausted from the events the past few days and you hadn’t had a chance to properly relax and feel safe since before the attack at the motel. Had it really only been two days since Mike flipped and nearly killed you? Huh… 

You didn’t really know what to make of the brothers, as it were. Aside from the little jokes here and there, and the karaoke night, you barely knew your way around them. After they’d saved your life you’d decided to trust them pretty fast, and so far they hadn’t given you any reason whatsoever to regret that decision. The whole thing was new to you, living with other people especially. You’d been on your own since you settled down in Oregon, you hadn’t made any friends that you saw more than once every few weeks. The only person you’d been even remotely close to had been Mike, and he was gone. You didn’t mourn Mike as much as you mourned what he represented in your life, a safe place to start over. 

Since you wouldn’t be staying with the Winchesters very long, it felt strange to rely on the bunker as a new home, but you couldn’t help it. You needed a middle ground before you started over again, somewhere else this time. Despite finding a landing zone in your life, a nagging feeling in the back of your mind told you that a simple tattoo wouldn’t be keeping demons away from you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s a bit weird to read through the chapters before posting them, because my mind is ahead in the story… :P


	13. Wagon Wheel Of Good Fortune

Back in your room you hooked up your phone to your speaker and let the tunes float through the room as you started to unpack. 

_“Rock me, mama, like a wagon wheel. Rock me, mama, any way you feel. Heeeey, mama rock me…”_

Things like your chargers, bathroom kit and computer made their way to the desk just inside the door. The few favourite books you had brought wound up on a shelf just above the headboard, and your own sheets soon covered the bed. Fixing up your room a bit gave you sense of calm, and being surrounded by your own things, familiar things, made this place feel a bit more like a home, however temporary it might end up being. 

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. You didn’t really feel like talking to either of them, you just wanted to sleep at this point, but you figured you’d see which one of them it was and what he wanted. You opened the door and saw Sam standing on the other side. He looked hesitant, like he hoped he wasn’t disturbing you. That made your chilly mood thaw a bit.

“Sam.” 

“Hey, Y/N.” He stuck his hands in his pockets, looking a little lost. 

“Something up?” you asked. Sam gave you a wavering smile.

“I just wanted to see how you were doing.” He looked at the floor. “I don’t think either me or Dean really considered how this must be for you. For us it’s nothing new, but you just left your life behind and… Yeah, just wanted to check on you.” You smiled. It warmed you to the bones that he actually cared to ask, and that he genuinely wanted to know. You held the door open for him to come inside. He stepped in and you closed the door behind him. 

While Sam took a moment to look around your room you sat down on the bed. You’d changed to sweatpants and a big t-shirt to sleep in. The music changed and a familiar song that reminded you so of home started playing.

_“Didn’t know what time it was the lights were low oh oh, I leaned back on my radio oh oh…”_

“Bowie fan, huh?” Sam asked, and sat down in the armchair facing the bed.

“Not really,” you confessed. “It just reminds me of home…” You trailed off. 

“It’s okay,” Sam assured. “You don’t have to talk about it.” You smiled and gave a little laugh. 

“If I didn’t want to talk about it I wouldn’t have invited you in.” Sam smiled back and seemed to relax a bit, sitting back in the armchair. “To be honest, I feel like I should’ve had a stronger reaction to all of this, but it all just sank right in.” He listened attentively, letting you talk at your own pace. 

“I’ve thought about it, and you letting me stay here feels like a safe landing zone in a shit ton of crazy. I can’t help myself, it feels homey, like I can take a breath and catch up before I leave to start over somewhere else.” You stopped talking and looked around the room. 

“That was sort of the point of bringing you here,” Sam said, and you turned back to him. “We don’t know who you are, or who might want to hurt you, but we know some people, and things, do. I know it seemed like you didn’t have a choice, but it wasn’t meant like that…” You stayed silent. It seemed like it wasn’t just you who needed to talk. 

“Me and Dean have seen too many people die, and with you we saw an opportunity we don’t get very often. I don’t mean to be rude, but you didn’t seem to have much tying you down in Oregon, so we figured bringing you with us would be easy. And it was.

“Dean and I talked about you on the way back here, how you just accepted what we told you. The idea of teaching you more about this life than just protection, teaching you how to hunt, came up. But that’s something that’s completely up to you. Dean laid out arguments for you having a normal life after you leave us, which is something not many hunters ever get the chance to do. When you find out what’s actually out there it’s hard not to see monsters wherever you look.”

“What would you argue for?” you asked after a while. Sam thought about it. 

“Honestly? I don’t know. It’s weird, but it kinda feels like you belong here, or at the very least that you should stay longer. You walked in and decided to go buy food, actual food that isn’t pre-made. You weren’t afraid of the two men who randomly asked you to go with them to their secret bunker. You joke around with Dean.

“None of that has to mean you should become a hunter, though. Not at all. But like Dean said, the fact that you know us could put you in danger.” 

“Which will be my problem to deal with,” you said quickly. “I could’ve easily shaken you and Dean on the way here and gone my own way, but you know more about the dangers out there than I do. It was the safe bet. And like you said, I had nothing tying me down in Oregon, so it wasn’t hard to leave.” 

You looked Sam in the eye. He was kind of… beautiful. He didn’t have to try in any way, he was just there, and that was what mattered. 

“I want to be here,” you assured him. “And if you’ll have me… I’d like to stay for a while.” 

“Good.” The unspoken fact that you were still planning to eventually leave hung in the hair for a moment. It slowly faded into the background as you and Sam just looked at each other. 

After a few minutes he stood up and you walked him to the door. He took one step out the door. 

“Sam.” He turned back to look at you. You reached up around his neck and hugged him for all you were worth. You felt his strong arms circle your back, holding you to him. 

“Thank you,” you said in a low voice, your mouth just by his ear. When you let go he was smiling warmly, and you watched him walk back to his own room before closing the door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After having a great work shift and seen videos from rockwood, where my friends currently is, I felt very much in the mood to write, so I got a lot done today, which means more updates soon :)  
> Things will start to happen from this point on… This chapter is actually only the fourth day since the reader first met the Winchesters, which I realised when I went back to count the days :P


	14. Extreme Places To Get A Tatto

“Oh, come on! How is she actually _snoozing_ right now?” Sam and Dean were back.

“She is not,” you answered, not lifting you arm from your eyes. 

“Wait… Wait, are you-” 

“Yes, Dean. I am. Now, if you don’t mind, could you wait outside?” You moved your arm. “I don’t mind Rita here seeing my goodies,” you winked at the (very hot and very tattooed) artist, who winked back, “but there are limits.” The Winchesters left the room. 

It took a while longer, but eventually you were all done, and you followed Rita back out to pay for the tattoo. Sam and Dean were waiting by the door. 

“Thank you so much, Rita. It’s perfect.”

“Glad you like it. I have to tell you, I really wanna know the story behind it.”  
“Maybe you will someday,” you said as she handed you your change. “I might come back for another tattoo.” You turned away with a smile, and headed toward the door. 

“You flirted with the ink-girl?” 

“Yeah, why?” You walked past them out to the car. “Jealous?” 

“What?!” Oh he was. You climbed in the backseat, careful not to bend your body too much. It stung a bit, but not worse than the last tattoo you’d gotten. Dean looked at you in the rearview mirror as he started driving back to the bunker. 

“So what made you choose that spot?” he asked. 

“You said somewhere not visible.” Sam laughed, and Dean looked torn between being disturbed and thinking it was hot. 

Back at the bunker the brothers wanted to test your shooting abilities. They led you down a corridor and through a door and- Holy fucking shit!

“Are you serious? A shooting range?” Your face split up in a gleeful smile. 

“Hey Sammy, I think she likes it,” you heard Dean say behind you. You’d already walked up to the counter and loaded your gun. There were earmuffs, earplugs and protective goggles already laid out, so you geared up. Sam and Dean didn’t bother. 

“Okay, show us what you can do.” You chambered a round, raised the gun, aimed and fired at the dummy standing about a hundred feet away. The bullet hit right between it’s “eyes”. Then you rapidly fired off several shots, emptying the clip and hitting places that would be fatal on an actual human. You put the gun down and turned to the brothers. 

  
“Not bad,” Sam said. Even Dean looked impressed. 

“What, you can do better?” you asked the brothers. A look passed between them before they drew their guns and the shots started echoing through the range. 

“Okay, I concede,” you said when they put the guns down. As they were shooting, the brothers had moved along the row of counters, around each other, always quick to aim and pull the trigger. The dummy’s face wasn’t a face anymore, just cracked and broken stone. 

Just as Sam was about to open his mouth to say something, your phone rang. You pulled it out of your jeans and looked at the caller ID, eyes widening when you saw who it was. Because it couldn’t be, she wouldn’t call unless… You hit the answer button and raised the phone to your ear. 

“Mica?” 

“Hey, Y/N!” Her voice was wavering slightly, and she sounded oddly cheerful. “What’s going on these days?” Something was wrong, she was scared. 

“Nothing much, been on the road for a few days, diving back into the old times, you know?” 

“Yeah, I feel ya, wish I could do the same. I’m really starting to miss the our nights at T’s Roadhouse. But who knows? Maybe I can get some time off and we can meet up.” Sam and Dean had noticed something was wrong, but you held your hand up, indicating that they had to be quiet. 

“Well just give me a ring if you get the chance, won’t you? It’s been too long.” 

“Of course, honey, will do. Listen, I gotta scram, okay? Talk to you soon!” She hung up. You slowly lowered the phone from your ear and turned back to the brothers. They looked expectantly at you. 

“Well?” Dean eventually asked when you didn’t say anything. You tucked your phone back in your pocket and went to collect your gun. 

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” This time it was Sam asking. You didn’t look back at them. Instead, you focused on keeping your emotions in check. The confusion and anger was building up inside, battling each other it seemed. You took several deep breaths, reciting song-lyrics in your head to be able to sort it all out before talking to Sam and Dean. Neither one of them opened their mouths again, like they noticed you needed a moment to calm down. 

Several minutes later you felt okay to turn back around. They were still standing there, waiting. 

“Who was it that called?” Sam asked. 

“It was Mica, a girl I met not long after I came to the States. We travelled together for a while, before she settled down in Texas where she’d met the love of her life. We didn’t part on the best of terms, and we haven’t talked since. I honestly didn’t think I’d ever hear from her again.” You looked down at your hands.

“So why did she call you now? Had something happened?” Sam asked, taking a step toward you. You didn’t answer, not knowing what to say. Dean spoke up. 

“If something’s happened, you need to tell us.” 

“Why?” 

“Why? Because we care.” So simple, but it meant a lot. You looked up at Dean, saw the sincerity in his face, and decided to tell them.

“Mika’s being held by someone, someone who’s after me.” 

“Someone like… Like your family.” Sam’s face filled with realisation. You nodded

“Son of a bitch…” Dean muttered. “Wait, how can you be sure?” 

“She said she missed our nights at T’s Roadhouse. We never went to a place with that name, however we did go to Gary’s Roadhouse once, where we got into a huge fight, almost didn’t make it out before the cops showed up. A few days later a group of guys found us, blaming us for the fight and the cops involvement.” 

“So why did she call it ‘T’s’ ?” You looked up at Sam, who was standing right next to you now. 

“That’s what my mom used to call my dad. His real name was Thomas, but she always called him ‘T’.” 

At this point you were getting pretty shaken up. Mica had sounded really scared on the phone and if your family was really just looking to find you they would’ve just asked to speak to you themselves. Instead they used and threatened Mica to try to find out where you were. What you didn’t understand was why now? Why had it taken them two whole years to start searching for you? And what did they want?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone want to take a guess on where the reader's new tattoo is? :P


	15. Make Me Wanna Scream

“I have to do something, I have to go to her!” You were struggling in Sam’s arms, trying to get by him to the garage. You had to go to Texas, to check on Mica and figure out what the hell was going on. After explaining about Mica’s call to the brothers, you’d gone to your room to pack, and then headed out to the garage, only to find them waiting for you. 

“You can’t!” Sam had raised his voice, trying to get through to you, but you refused to listen. “You can’t go there! Someone will definitely be watching Mica’s house, waiting for you to show up.” Dean walked up beside Sam, catching your eyes. 

“Look, they found out you two care about each other. I guarantee they have people watching her house, who will know the second you show up at her doorstep.”

“You don’t get it,” you hissed. “If she gets hurt because of me, because my family is looking for me…” you trailed off.

“You still can’t go.” You felt a burning feeling in your eyes but held back for all you were worth. You didn’t want to cry infront of them, not now, but your couldn’t help it, the tears started streaming down your cheeks without your permission and you thrashed in Sam’s arms, trying to get loose. His grip didn’t let up one bit, and eventually you sagged into a heap. The sobs tore through you, your mind imagining the most horrible things happening to Mica. Sam held you up, not restraining you now, but instead trying to comfort you. 

After a few minutes you pulled yourself together and stood facing the brothers. Your voice was cracked and shaky when you spoke.

“Look, I get that it’s dangerous, but I don’t have a choice. She’s… She’s the one I relied on after I left Sweden, she’s the one who picked me up from my dark places. Something was wrong when she called, and I have to check on her.”

“It’s not that simple, Y/N,” Dean said. “If your family really is looking for you, it could mean their operation is still up and running, that they never stopped trading and dealing with monsters.”

“You don’t think I understand that?” You looked at them incredulously. “What I want is to make sure Mica isn’t dragged into this in any way.” 

“Not happening. Besides, even if you do show up there it doesn’t mean she won’t get hurt. Staying away could actually keep her alive for longer.” Dean wasn’t letting up. What made him think he could decide what you could do? Yes, he and Sam saved your life, and let you stay with them. You knew they were trying to keep you safe, but this seemed a bit over-the-top for someone they had just met. 

“Why are you so fucking stubborn and intent on keeping me here?” 

“Are you serious?” Dean looked pissed. “I’m trying to keep _you_ out of this, to keep you safe! You don’t know what kind of situation you’d be walking into, you could get hurt, bad.”

Hearing him say that and seeing his face made you flash back to what Sam had told you last night. _“Me and Dean have seen too many people die, and with you we saw an opportunity we don’t get very often.”_ He really just didn’t want to see you get hurt. 

“I’m sorry.” You picked your bag up off the floor where you’d dropped it, and walked back to your room. 

You sat on your bed, feeling dejected, hopeless. Mica had helped you through so much, and now, when she needed you the most, you couldn’t help her. If anything happened to her because Dean wouldn’t let you go… But you could see his point. She could end up hurt even if you did go to Texas, there was no guarantee your family would spare her life. At his outburst you’d realised how Dean felt but you couldn’t understand it, despite Sam explaining. 

A knock on your door brought you out if your own head, and you called out that it was open. Not so surprisingly, it was Sam. He came in and sat in the armchair again. Both of you stayed silent for a while, Sam simply watching you while you stared at the floor. When he finally spoke, he asked you a question. 

“You and Mica… You were more than friends, weren’t you?” 

“How do you figure?” 

“Mostly your reaction when we refused to let you go see her.” A dry laugh left you in a huff and you looked up from the floor to meet his eyes. 

“So because I shed a few tears you assume we loved each other? Newsflash, friends can be that close too.” 

“Not just a few tears, Y/N. You broke apart, you were full on sobbing.” You turned away from him again. 

“Yes, we were more than friends,” you said in a low voice. Sam was quiet, waiting for you to continue. Despite your best efforts, tears started slipping down your face. “I fell in love with her, and I guess she loved me too, in her own way. She brought me happiness after my sister died.” 

“You said you didn’t part on good terms.” It wasn’t a question. 

“We didn’t.” You wiped a hand across your face. “We travelled together for a long time, over a year. We worked odd jobs, never stayed in one place for long. I was happy, and I think she was too. But then we went to Texas, and she found her life there. Time passed, longer than we usually stayed in one place. We’d drifted apart before we even got there, and when I wanted to leave she broke the news that she’d found something she wanted to keep, and had decided to stay.”

“She found someone else.” Again, no question. 

“Yeah… I never blamed her, but I couldn’t stay there when I couldn’t be with her. It didn’t feel right. So I left, and a few months later I ended up in Oregon.” 

Sam didn’t seem to have anything to say to all that, which was good. You didn’t want to hear how sorry he was, or that it was unfair, because it wasn’t. Mica hadn’t done anything wrong, and neither had you. You still loved her, but you’d left any and all possibilities behind you. She was happy, you knew that. You also knew that you would always be there for each other, which was what made this so hard. 

“Why do you ask, Sam? Problem solved, I’m not going anywhere, so why do you care?” You tried to sound as non-accusing as possible and looked back at him. He thought about it for a moment.  
“I don’t know, I just do.” Simple words, but they meant so much. The concern that had shown on his face during your story made all sorts of feelings bubble up in your chest. 

“Thank you for that, Sam.” He didn’t answer, just gave you a smile. 

After Sam left you tried to relax and listen to music. Hours passed, and you just laid on your bed. There was nothing left for you to do at this point. You hadn’t eaten in hours, since this morning actually, and you were starting to really feel it at this point. When afternoon became evening you couldn’t wait any longer and dragged yourself out of your room to get some food. 

Just as you were rounding a corner you heard Sam and Dean’s voices coming from what had to be the kitchen. Of course. The last time you eavesdropped on them you learned something you wished you hadn’t, but you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning against the wall to listen. It was apparently going to become a habit. 

“-times do I have to say it, Sam, we can’t go!” 

“You don’t get it Dean, Mica meant everything to Y/N back then, probably still now. She has to find out what’s going on.”

“It’s probably nothing. We put Tommy on it, and he got jack. Mica was at home, business as usual, there wasn’t anything there to suggest she was in danger.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s nothing, she could be under threat, being told to act normal until Y/N shows up.”  
“All the more reason not to go!” 

“Look, we sent Tommy there, he found nothing. I think we should check it out. Better we go with her than Y/N sneaking off herself.” 

“Why are you so eager to do what she wants all of a sudden?”

“It’s the right thing to do, Dean!” 

“No, no, the right thing to do is to keep her out of this. If her family gets to her she will be right in the middle of it.”

“Not necessarily.” 

“So, what? You think we can keep her safe from _them_? The Ritchies? For all we know they could be worse than the Stynes! We don’t know what kind of deals they’ve made with the heads of the bigger monster families. Remember Chicago? Fuckin’ monster mob, and with someone like Y/N’s dad to lead them…”

“It could lead to an uprising… Dick Roman all over again, only more blood, less corn syrup…” 

“Exactly.” 

It was silent for a while. 

“There’s still no guarantee that there’s nothing going on with Mica, Dean.” 

“Back to this?”  
“Yes, back to this! Y/N damn near swore up and down that Mica would never call her unless there was something serious going on, much less to see if they could meet up on the road.”

More silence. 

“Why _are_ you so persistent about Y/N not going there?” 

“Because I can’t see another person we’re responsible for die! I can’t handle another Charlie, Sam!” 

“… This is nothing like what happened with Charlie.” 

“Yeah, you’re right, because she’s not going and neither are we.” 

“Okay consider this; this could be our one chance to take down the Ritchie family for good. Obviously last time was a hoax. This time we can make sure. And them looking for Y/N could mean they’re cooking up something big, which we need to stop either way.” 

This time it was quiet for so long you decided to interrupt and make your presence known. You walked around the corner and into the kitchen. 

“If you two are done with your pissing contest, I have a suggestion.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as you noticed this story takes place sometime after the Stynes and Charlie, but in a way I imagine it happening before the Darkness. Somewhere in the end of season 10 anyway. I see it as a time pocket of sorts, and I imagine it being around june 2015. Anyway, before the Darkness happened, but there most likely won't be anything about the Mark of Cain either... AU, time pocket, whatever you want to call it. I also see the brothers returning to the canon story when this one is over... Lil twisted maybe, but that's what it's like in my head :P


	16. (Un)Fortunate Daughter In The Lone Star State

How you’d managed this you had no idea, as Dean had been so set on not letting you out of the bunker. The best you’d thought you’d manage was getting them to go instead of you, but here you were, in the backseat, enjoying several hours of extreme tension. You thought back to the discussion that had followed after you walked into the kitchen. 

“Let me guess, it involves you going to Texas.” Dean didn’t miss a beat. 

“Listen, I know you don’t want me to get hurt, and thank you for that. But if something happens to Mica because you refused to let me go, I swear to the gods above I will kill you, Dean.” You looked him straight in the eye. He’d better take you seriously, because you weren’t kidding. If Mica got hurt or, gods forbid, died, and you weren’t there, you would not hesitate to pull the trigger. You might not feel what you used to, but you still loved her more than anyone besides you sister. 

Dean took a moment to consider your words, and seemed to decide to believe you. 

“Okay,” he said. “Okay, what’s your suggestion.” You took a deep breath and relaxed a bit. Now you had him on your side, and just hoped he’d listen to your idea.

“I realise that my family could be using Mica as bait, and that me showing my face at her house wouldn’t be a good idea. But like I’ve said, I can’t not go. I’m asking you two to go with me. I trust you to make sure she’s actually okay, and I promise to stay out of the way and out of sight.” 

“Okay, fine,” he said after a moment. “We’ll go. Get something to eat, and then we’re leaving.” 

After that you rushed to pack a bag and stuff something in your mouth, not caring what it was. You met Sam and Dean in the garage. When you were about to head to your bike Dean stopped you. 

“Oh no, Dorothy, you talked us into this, your riding with us.” Not wanting to piss him off even more, having gotten what you wanted, you tossed your bag in the trunk and got in the backseat of the Impala. 

Now here you were. After about half an hour in the car you couldn’t stand the silence, or watching Dean’s tense shoulders, so you leaned back in the corner, feet up on the seat, and plugged in your headphones and closed your eyes. When you knew you were going to Texas you’d tried calling Mica, but it had gone straight to voicemail. You hadn’t bothered leaving a message. If she could, she’d call back. 

There was a tap on your leg and you opened your eyes. Sam was leaning back over the seat, so you pulled your headphones off to hear what he wanted. 

“Where to in Texas?” 

“Tyler.” He turned back around. Great conversation, guys. _Not their fault_ , you reminded yourself. This was a big risk, one you’d nearly had to force on them. But they hadn’t let you go alone, so what were you going to do? Sam had already been on your side, for which you were grateful, despite making the brothers fight like they had. It seemed like a lot of old stuff had been brought up in anger, and you didn’t like it. Although from the lack of further arguing, it seemed like no big deal once the decision had been made. 

Hours passed and eventually you saw the “Welcome to Texas” sign flash by, so you sat up straight. 

_“I ain’t no fortunate one, no”_

You pulled off you headphones to ask the brothers how much further you had to go when you heard the song playing in the car, and you just had to laugh. 

“What?” Dean asked.

“Nothing, just… Same song I was listening to just now.” A moment of camaraderie passed between you as he looked at you in the rearview mirror. Then he turned his eyes back to the road, and the moment was over. 

“So how much further?” 

“About two and a half hours,” Sam answered you. 

“Okay, thanks.” 

Being back here brought up old memories, both good and bad. Your last few months with Mica were spent here, months filled with happiness and heartbreak. The beauty of travelling with someone like Mica was how free she was, but still serious enough to understand you, when you needed a break, when you needed to get drunk, get laid, sleep, binge on slurpies and raisin bran. Anything. She also made it very easy to understand her. But everything went sideways when you decided to land in Tyler. The first week there she met Jay, and as much as it hurt to see and admit, it was life at first sight. They were meant to be. You still spent time together, worked together, but it wasn’t the same. A while after you’d left Texas you’d realised that it was probably for the best. You couldn’t live out your whole life on the road. Mica had taken a leap of faith, and it payed off big time. 

Your trip down memory lane was interrupted when Dean took a turn into a parking lot outside a motel. You looked out the window and immediately recognised the place. It hadn’t changed much since you were here last. 

“What now?” you asked. 

“Now,” Dean said, getting out of the car. You followed, stretching your back after the drive. “Now me and Sam are going to go check on your friend. You’re going to check in under a fake name and stay here until we get back.” 

“So you’re benching me.” 

“Not at all, Dorothy.” Dean smiled innocently. “We’re keeping you on lockdown. Which you agreed to.” Smiling sarcastically, you walked around the car to Sam’s side. He’d also gotten out, and was holding something in his hand.

“Please, call me when you know what’s going on.”

“Of course. Here.” He handed you the thing in his hand. It was an ID with your picture on it. But not your name. Apparently you were now-

“Rosamund Becker?” 

“It was the best I could do for now.” He handed you a wad of money. “Pay cash at the motel, no cards, pay for one night and stay in the room. If you see any cameras, keep your head down.” 

“I know, Sam. I’ve been invisible before.” Suddenly you felt a hand on your cheek and you looked up. 

“I’m serious. If it is your family and you are in danger… Just please, be careful, Y/N.” 

“I will.” He really was worried about you, maybe more than you’d realised before, when he was arguing with his brother. Sam wanted you to be safe. For a moment you thought he was going to kiss you, but then dickhead- um, _Dean_ , interrupted with a, kind of disgusting, clearing of his throat. 

“You done, Sammy? We gotta go.” Sam’s hand slipped off your cheek. 

“I’ll call soon.” You could only muster a nod as he got in the car. Then the car sped out of the lot and you shook your head, trying to clear the fuzz that had somehow gathered there. You pulled your hood over your head, picked up your bag and, keeping your head down, headed to the reception. 


	17. Hold On, Lonely Girl, It's The Day Of The Dead

The Winchesters’ definition of “soon” differed from yours. By a lot. It had been over two hours since they’d left and you’d checked into the motel. You’d paced the length of the room about a hundred times, sat on the bed, tried listening to music. You felt yourself slowly going bonkers. However, you knew, as long as they didn’t call, they at least wouldn’t have any bad news to tell you. But it could also be that they _couldn’t_ call, either because they still didn’t know anything, or because there was definitely someone there and they had been captured. You wanted to decide a certain amount of time you’d let them have to call you, but that wasn’t how it worked. _You_ wanted to call _them_ , but that could blow any cover they might have at the moment. This was insane. What if this whole thing was just a big fucking overreaction on your part? Mica could’ve just gotten the name of the roadhouse wrong… And here you’d sworn up and down to Sam and Dean that something was definitely wrong, when actu-

That’s when your phone _finally_ rang. You dove for it on the bed and picked up after just one ring. 

“Sam?!” 

“Um, no… It’s Dean.” 

“Oh…” 

“Yeah… Hey listen, as far as we can tell there’s nothi-” CRASH. 

“Dean?! DEAN!” You yelled into the phone, but got no answer. That’s fucking it. Forgetting your earlier doubt that there was something wrong here, you grabbed your gun, rushed out the door and started running down the street. Mica’s house was only about ten minutes from here on foot, five if you ran as hard as you could. You pushed your body to it’s limit, thighs and lungs burning. 

It was early morning by now, the neighbourhood still asleep. You ran down Mica’s street and saw Dean’s car a couple of blocks away from the house, rear window completely busted and the doors open. Sam and Dean were nowhere to be seen. Not stopping to check the car, except for bodies in the seats, you ran toward Mica’s house. There was a low stone wall cordoning off the yard and you jumped over it onto the grass. Through the back windows of the house you could see Mica. She was tied to a chair, looking right at you, screaming something. Never stopping, you burst through the back door and into the living room.

“Y/N!” she screamed. Tears were running down her cheeks and she was breathing heavily. “It’s a trick, they wanted you to-” Her head flew back, blood hitting the wall behind her. 

“MICA!” Just as you were about to go to her you felt something grab hold of you and tighten to a point that should be painful, but you couldn’t feel it. All you cared about was getting to Mica. She was hurt, she needed help! Whatever was holding you started dragging you backwards, out of the house. No, no they couldn’t, Mica was still in there, you couldn’t leave her. You kicked and scratched and pulled against your restraints, but you were still being pulled backwards. Once outside you started hearing noises coming from above you. Voices, those were voices. NO! They were taking you too, you couldn’t let them, they were going to- 

Suddenly something, hands, you realised, gripped your head and a face appeared infront of you. 

“Y/N! Stop fighting!” The voice was yelling at you. Sam. It was Sam. 

“Take her, get her in the car,” the voice over your head said. Dean. It was Dean holding you, not someone who wanted to hurt you. He handed you over to Sam, who simply lifted you up and carried you down the road. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the house. Sam practically shoved you into the backseat of the car and then you were speeding down the street. 

Dean drove for hours, he refused to stop until you were at least out of Texas. You were numb, you couldn’t think. What had happened to Mica when you walked into the house refused to register in your mind, so you just stared out the window, not seeing anything outside.

Somewhere in Oklahoma the car stopped in an abandoned lot The brothers got out and you followed them, still going on autopilot. Suddenly they stopped, and you realised it was just one of them. 

“Hey, Y/N?” A pair of hands gripped your shoulders and you looked up at Sam. His face made you flash back to when Mica’s head snapped backwards. The blood on the wall… Mica was dead. Your body started to shake.

“She’s… She-” Your voice trembled. “They wanted to… It’s m-”

“No.” His voice was firm, non-negotiable. “It’s _not_ your fault, Y/N.” 

“Yes, it is! It was, you don’t understand, she told me-” Just before the bullet hit it’s target Mica had said, “It’s a trick, they wanted you to…” It was your fault, they’d made sure you would find a way go to Texas, and because of that, because you couldn’t stay away, Mica was dead. Sam’s hands on your shoulders suddenly felt constricting, you started fighting against his grip. He didn’t let go, instead moving his hands to your face, forcing you to look at him.

“Please, listen to me,” he looked desperate. “ _Listen_ to me, Y/N. What happened was _not_ your fault. You didn’t tie her up, you didn’t pull the trigger.”

“She’s _dead_ , Sam!” 

“I know! But you need to know that it is not your fault. You knew something was wrong when she called, you convinced us to got to Texas to make sure she was alright.”  
“If I hadn’t she would still be alive.”  
“You don’t know that.” You pushed his hands from your face. 

“I do know that! She said so, just before she- before she was shot. She said ‘It’s a trick. They wanted you to-’ That’s what she said Sam, that it was a trick to get me there. They used her to get to me. You told me that could be the case, you _and_ Dean.” You walked around him and across the lot, back turned. You stopped a bit away.

Your family was going to pay for this. Before leaving for Texas you’d had a hard time thinking the people who raised you were capable of something like this. Those doubts were gone. 

“Sam, for all I know my family never lost track of me. They must have known exactly who Mica was and what she meant to me. They probably know who you and Dean are, you could be in danger because of-” Sam scoffed.

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” You turned around to face him. 

“That’s not the point. What if you die too?” 

“That’s not going to happen.” 

“You don’t know that, Sam! You have no idea what’s going to happen!” You’d raised our voice again. You couldn’t imagine what you’d do if something happened to the brothers, if something happened to Sam… Suddenly you saw Sam in Mica’s place, head whipped back, his blood on the wall. You shook your head, trying to clear that imagine out of your head. Sam started walking toward you but you raised your hands to stop him. 

“Don’t.” He stopped. “You don’t get it, Sam. I…” You took a deep breath. “I _can’t_ have anything happen to you. Or Dean. It would…”

“It would hurt too much,” Sam finished your sentence. You looked up at him. 

“Yes, it would hurt too fucking much.” He took several quick steps toward you, and this time you didn’t stop him. 

“I can’t lose you,” you almost whispered. Sam was standing so close to you now. 

“I can’t lose _you_.” He raised his hands again, holding your face, getting you to meet his eyes. Your heart was beating like crazy in your chest and you gripped his wrists, nails digging into his skin. You had no idea exactly what it was you felt for this man, but it was strong, tumbling around inside you. 

Sam’s face was so close to yours, only a couple of inches separating you. Suddenly his lips met yours, and your response was instant. You moved your hands to his neck, needing him closer, and you felt his arms move down to your back, pressing you hard against his chest. Your breath sped up as a sob tore through your chest and your mouth opened against his. Sam deepened the kiss, and it started feeling desperate. One of your hands slipped up in his hair, gripping tightly. All you could think right then was that he had to stay there, with you. Inside one week you had lost two people you cared about, you would not, _could not_ , lose him too. Neither of them. 

Eventually you broke the kiss and just leaned your head against his chest, letting yourself feel comfort in having him close. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Long awaited action in this chapter… It had to be done. Anyone who knows where I got the chapter title from, I applaud your taste in music, and I am so looking forward to february 24th. Also, I had a lil conversation with the full moon this evening. It’s a thing I do where I just stand and watch it for a while, it’s kinda peaceful… Anyone want to guess where I live based on the clues I gave you? :P


	18. Knock, Knock, Knockin'

Most of the ride back to the bunker you spent sleeping in the backseat, buried under Sam’s jacket. You didn’t know if you were half awake or dreaming, but at one point you overheard a conversation between the brothers. 

“So what’s going on between you and Y/N?” 

“Nothing’s going on.”  
“Sam, her - whatever Mica was - just died right infront of her. You were alone with her for over an hour, and when you came back to the car she wouldn’t let go of you until she got in.” 

“What’s your point, Dean?” 

“My point is that something must have happened to make her so clingy all of a sudden. She’s not exactly a warm and fuzzy person, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“Because we know her _so_ well.” 

“Better than anyone else at this point…” 

“Don’t let her hear you say that.” 

“I saw her shoot. Trust me, I won’t.”

There was silence between them for a while, the only sound was Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door and the car’s engine. 

“Dean, she blamed herself for what happened to Mica.”  
“Why? She had no way of knowing that would happen.” 

“Y/N said it herself, we told her the risks of going to Texas.”  
“What, so you think it _is_ her fault?” 

“No, of course not! This is all on her family. To top it off, she now thinks she’s putting us in danger. She wanted to leave.” 

“That’s crazy.” 

“She doesn’t think so. You should have seen her, Dean, she was broken over Mica’s death.” 

“Do you think she’ll actually go?” 

“No, I don’t.”

“What makes you so sure?” 

“I don’t know… I feel like if she was going to, she would have left already.”  
“Without her bike?”

“Dean, even you would leave your wheels behind if you had to.” 

“That’s a big if…”

“My point is, she’s still here.” 

“And what about her family?” 

“What about them?” 

“They’ll come for her next. Mica was a way to get to Y/N, she’s their endgame and they want something from her.”

“And we have no idea of what.”  
“Nope. It could be anything, literally anything, from something she brought with her from home, to wanting her back in the family. Whatever it is, they won’t leave her alone until they have it.”

“So what do we do?” 

“Keep her safe.” 

“Simple as that?” 

“Simple as that.”

Sleep dragged you down into deeper dreams after that, and you slept the whole way back to the bunker. It was late afternoon when Dean parked in the garage and Sam shook you awake. His jacket fell off of you when you sat up in the backseat. You yawned, feeling your jaw crack, and climbed out of the car. The clothes you were wearing were sticking to your body, so first up was a shower. Then you were going to break into the bottle of whiskey you’d bought on the way here the first time. 

This time you remembered to bring a towel to the bathroom. The warm water felt good against your skin, washing away the lingering coldness and shivering that had dug in deep during the hours in the car. A lump in your chest, and the matching one in your throat, kept reminding you that Mica wasn’t here anymore, and you wanted to just stop feeling for a moment. 

You stepped out of the shower and dried off, putting on the too big shorts and sleep shirt you’d brought. After wrapping your hair in the towel you walked back to your room. Opening the door you saw Dean sitting on your bed, waiting for you, bottle on the floor by his feet. 

“Why are you here?” you asked while walking over to you speaker to put on some music. 

“Sam wanted me to check on you.” 

“You couldn’t manage on your own? Had to have Sam send you?” Dean rolled his eyes. “Where is he anyway?” 

“Library, looking into your family.” The music started playing.

“… Why?”

“Shits and giggles.”  
“Haha fucking ha.”  
“You don’t get it do you?” Dean stood up from the bed and walked up to you. While being shorter than his brother he still towered over you. “This isn’t just your fight anymore.” You didn’t say anything, just walked around him to your bag to take out the bottle of whiskey. 

“At the moment I don’t plan on fighting anything except the ball of guilt in my chest,” you held up the bottle. “You’re welcome to join.” Just then the song changed.

_“When you were young and your heart was an open book, you used to say ‘Live and let live’.”_

Dean grabbed his own bottle while you opened yours. 

_“But if this ever changing world, in which we live in, makes you give in and cry.”_

You raised the bottle and took a deep swig, as did Dean.

_“Say live and let die.”_

You closed your eyes and let your head tip back, letting the music wash over you. Mica dying was something you had to accept as fact, grieve, and then let go. Whether it was your fault or not couldn’t matter in the long run, because you couldn’t change it now. What happened, happened. You would grieve for her, you would feel the loss, but you had to let the guilt go or you wouldn’t be able to go on. 

When you tilted your head back down and opened your eyes you saw Dean had taken a seat on the bed again. You plopped your butt down in the armchair, taking another drink from the bottle. The one thing you wanted tonight was to get shit-faced and not feel what you felt right now. One night in a drunken haze, and then you would face the world outside your bedroom. A thought occurred to you. 

“Hey, Dean.”

“What?” 

“Where’s the nearest exit?” 

“Back door, down the corridor.” 

“Great.” You got up and grabbed your jacket and shoes. 

“Woah, hold up. Where are you going?”

“Back door, down the corridor. Need a smoke.”

“Door’s locked.” Heaving a deep, heavily sarcastic sigh, you turned back to him. 

“Well, you’ll just have to come with me then.” You left the room, hearing his footsteps follow. 


	19. I Can't Believe There's Something Good Inside Of Me

Hours had passed since your shower. The bottle was half empty and you were standing on your bed, trying not to fall over while attempting to dance. On the floor infront of you Dean was dancing too, bottle in hand. A while ago you’d switched up the music to a favourite band of yours. A song you were all too familiar with started up.

“Oh, oh!”

_“Everywhere I go, bitches always know that Charlie Scene has got weenie that he loves to show.”_

It was one of their songs you’d learned the whole lyrics to, so naturally you got your rap on and sang every word. 

_“Lets get this party started, lets keep them 40’s poppin’. So just get buzzed and stay fucked up we’ll keep them panties droppin’.”_

The booze made your head spin like crazy, but you weren’t quite at the stage where you’d have to throw up, and you intended to keep it that way. Dean must have a high as fuck tolerance because he’d had almost twice as much as you had and he was still standing. 

_“Everywhere I go, bitches always know that Dean he’s got a little weenie that he loves to shoooow.”_

“Hey!” Dean looked downright offended, and like he was going to say something else but you cut him off. 

“Defending your own junk is not the way to preserve your masculinity, Tay tay,” you slurred out, and flopped down on the bed, grabbing the bottle from the nightstand. Dean grumbled, obviously wanting fire back something witty, but coming up empty.

Eventually you both ended up on the bed, heads next to each other and legs hanging off either side. The volume was down and the music was now just in the background.

“I meant what I said, Y/N. This isn’t just your fight. Me and Sam, we’re with you.” 

“I know you are, Dean, I’m just having a hard time understanding why you would take on a risk like my family coming after me.”

“It’s nothing we haven’t done before.”  
“You make a habit of taking in strays with murderous relatives?” At least it got a laugh out of him. 

“I meant that danger is something we’ve lived with our whole lives. We know how to handle it, and ourselves.”  
“Sam told me why you asked me to come with you here when you realised I could be in danger.”  
“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. He said you’ve seen too many people die, and that you saw a chance with me that you didn’t get a lot.” Dean didn’t say anything for a while. 

_“I can’t believe, that when I breathe, there’s something good inside of me, just one good thing inside of me.”_

“We care about you, Y/N. Especially Sam.”  
“Yeah, I know…”

“Oh you ‘know’?” Dean sat up and looked down at you, narrowing his eyes. “Sam wouldn’t tell me if there was something going on between you two, which makes me think there is.”

“I can imagine that what you ‘think’ is way more than what actually happened.”  
“So something did happen.”  
“Your brother kissed me.”  
“Atta boy, Sammy.” Dean smiled. Your alcohol soaked mind decided that now was the time to get even more personal.

“What about you, Dean? Do you have someone?” His smile fell and he looked away. You sat up as well, staring at the back of his head. 

“Do you do that a lot?” He turned back to you.

“Do what?” 

“Close yourself off from people? Because I can tell you, aside from jokes, teasing and need-to-know information, getting you to talk about something is difficult. And I haven’t even tried all that much.”  
“Sam’s the sharer and carer in the family.” Oh didn’t you know it.

“I’m gonna tell you something you might not believe, big boy. Emotions aren’t dangerous.”  
“Says the girl drinking herself unconscious.”

“I lost someone I love, I’m entitled.”  
“Take it from someone with half a liver left, that’s not the way to live.”  
“No one said I was going to make it my new lifestyle. Post-hangover and freshly showered I’ll join Sam in the library to figure out what the fuck my family is up to.” Dean raised his bottle and you clinked it with your own.

“I’ll drink to that, Dorothy.” 

“Okay, one day I’m going to make you explain what that is all about.” He chuckled and took a swig. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short one, I know, but more will come. I’m working a lot right now, so I don’t have all that much time to write.  
> I just had to have the Hollywood Undead songs in this chapter, it just called to me :P


	20. You And I Both Know My Past Is Haunted

This could not become a habit, or else you’d die before you turned forty. Slowly but surely you surfaced to the realm of the conscious, but refused to open your eyes just yet, first wanting to take stock of your current situation. Your body was intact, and you didn’t feel too bad. Yet. It remained to be seen how you’d feel once you actually started moving. 

Slowly, oh ever so slowly, you opened your eyes to the bright light from the lamps you’d neglected to turn off the before you passed out. Relief flooded you when it didn’t sting like needles. You carefully turned over onto your back, and were happy to discover that your head wasn’t being cleaved in half, but instead only pounded lightly with a soft hammer. 

Sitting up, you heard groaning coming from your bathroom. You got up from the bed and slowly walked over to the door, finding Dean on the floor by your toilet, looking like absolute _shit_. Just because it was Dean, you felt like you should help him feel a bit better. 

“You know, there’s a great cure for a hangover, it’s your week and a half old pizza served up on a dirty dive bar floor.” Dean groaned.

“I fuckin’ hate you.”  
“Yeah, I know you do.” You turned away from the bathroom and before you left the room, you picked up your gun and tucked it in your waistband, feeling like it was a habit you ought to get into. Somewhat shakily you made your way to the kitchen. Sam was there, sitting at the table having breakfast.

“Mornin’, how you feeling?” He grinned. You stuck your tongue out.

“I’ve had worse.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Damn, that smirk. Rolling your eyes you walked past him to the coffee pot and poured yourself a cup. “Where’s Dean?” 

“Praying to the porcelain gods, regretting he ever met me.” Sam started to laugh, which made you smile. It was kind of an amazing sound. 

Talking to Dean last night had caused something of a revelation for you, and you looked at Sam with new eyes. The kiss you’d shared hadn’t changed much between you, aside from feeling closer to him. You didn’t feel uncertain about him, because you understood where he stood in life, and that despite sort of having a permanent home, he might up and leave at any moment. But then again, so could you. 

Two cups of coffee, a shower and a change of clothes later you joined Sam in the library. 

“So last night I did what research I could on your family, and as expected they are very careful to not leave any trace of what it is they _actually_ do.” He opened his laptop and clicked up several news articles and information sites. “So I had to dig a little deeper, go into the backstory of the Ritchies, their origin story and whatnot, and I found something interesting.” He clicked around a bit and suddenly an article with a picture of your family popped up. The clicking stopped. You looked at the picture and felt a tug in your chest. There they were, your father, your mother and… Leah. The picture had been taken years ago, long before your sister died. You looked… happy. Ignorant… Fucking naive. The family secret was just that, a secret, because you didn’t care enough to realise something wasn’t as it should have been. You didn’t care about the family business, but had been more focused on your own path.

Suddenly a hand covered yours on the table and you heard Sam’s voice. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” You turned your hand over under his and grabbed hold of it. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Sam. I probably- no I _definitely_ \- would’ve been dead if it weren’t for you and Dean.” You looked at him. “What happened, happened. Now, what did you find?” 

Sam held onto your hand as he turned back to the computer, getting to the page he was looking for. 

“In your family’s history I found several mentions of an old artefact from ancient Greece. Apparently it was revered by your ancestors, and thought to be sent from the gods themselves. I couldn’t find an actual name or a picture, but it’s something.” 

“And something is all we need.” Despite looking like he’d gone a few rounds with a dumpster, Dean managed to move so quietly you had no idea he was behind you and Sam. You jumped so bad you hit your knee on the underside of the table. 

“Jesus fuck, why’d you do that?!” Both he and Sam laughed. You turned back around to sit down, and almost lost your shit, again. 

“ _Fuck_!” A man was standing on the other side of the table. He tilted his head, as if questioning everything about you. “Who is that?” you asked as you tried to catch your breath, again, and pointed at the man. 

“Cas, what the hell?” Dean exclaimed. “I’ve tried to get ahold of you for days!” The man, Cas, turned his attention to Dean. 

“I’ve been busy.” 

“Doing what?” This was the first time you’d heard Dean be openly somewhat worried about someone, and it kind of surprised you. Cas looked away, trying, very obviously, to avoid Dean’s question. “Come on, Cas! You can’t just go MIA for weeks and then just pop in without an explanation!” 

“I can’t tell you right now.” Dean huffed and tossed his arms up, like this had happened before. 

“Okay, pause?” you asked and raised your hand. “Can someone please tell me who this is and how the hell he got into the bunker? I thought you said it was heavily warded and impossible to get into unless you had a key.” Sam got to his feet and gestured to Cas. 

“Y/N, this is Castiel. Cas, this is Y/N.” Seeing you raise your eyebrows in question he continued. “Cas is an angel.” 

“An angel? Really?” What the hell? They couldn’t have stopped at demons, but now angels had to be real too? You looked at Cas, having a hard time believing what Sam was saying.

“Aren’t angels supposed to be all glowy, with wings and halos? What’s with the trench coat?”

“That’s just his style,” Dean answered. Suddenly Cas blipped out and appeared right next to you. 

“Please, stop doing that!” 

“Who are you?” Damn, this guy was demanding, and kind of rude. You leaned away from him as best you could.

“Y/N Ritchie, at your service.” Cas turned to Dean, looking very tense, like someone was squeezing his intestines. 

“Can I talk to you?” Dean cast a look your way before turning and walking out of the library, Cas right behind him. 

You turned to Sam.

“What the hell was that about?” Sam sat back down in his chair and gestured for you to do the same. 

“The angels know about your family and are probably not your biggest admirers. Lucky for you that Cas was the first angel to find out about you, the rest of them can be real dicks.”  
“There it is again, ‘lucky’. I’m not sure you and your brother know the meaning of the word.” 

“Believe me, we know better than most people…” There was that look on his face, the one that told you that their past wasn’t as simple as just hunting the occasional monster or demon. They had been through a lot, a lot that was far from sunshine and roses. 

“I’m sorry… But still, how did he get in?” 

“We made sure he can, we trust him. He’s… He’s family.” Deciding that more than that was none of your business, you shifted your attention back to the computer as you sat back down. 

“I know you didn’t find a name or a picture, but did you find anything about what they used the artefact for?” He immediately snapped back into research mode. 

“Actually I did. They’ve had it for a couple centuries, at least, and apparently it’s the center of some big plan, decades, almost a hundred years, in the making, all tied to your family.” He clicked up another page with a text in a language you didn’t know. “The way it’s phrased here though…” He trailed off.

“What?” 

“It makes me think it’s literally _tied_ to your family, as in your blood. I’m thinking that has to be why they’re trying to get to you.” You didn’t have time to react to that as you heard footsteps approaching from behind (Dean actually doing you the courtesy this time). Cas the angelman appeared beside you. 

“I think I know what the artefact is.”

“How did you…?”  
“Don’t ask,” Dean said. “Just go with it.” Okay then.

“What is it?” you asked, shifting in your chair to look at Cas. 

“It’s ancient, going back to a time before even the greek gods. It’s a small stone effigy of the goddess Gaia.”  
“Wait, Gaia as in… Mother Earth?” Sam asked in disbelief. 

“Yes.” All three of you just sat and waited. 

“And?” Dean finally asked. 

“And it was believed by many to hold power over the goddess, that it kept her sleeping and at peace.” 

“So what are they doing with it now?” You dreaded the answer, but you had to ask.

“Most likely, they’re going to raise Gaia from rest.” 

“… And what happens if they succeed?” The answer was written on his face.

“Destruction.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a bad cold and I can barely focus on the words on the screen :D Also, I’m so not okay about the angels losing their wings and ability to fly/teleport everywhere, so I scrapped that and Cas still has his wings. And i saw the new episode today and wow 0_0


	21. Won't You Do This For Me, Sam, If You Can

“They won’t stop, you know they won’t!”  
“This isn’t just your problem anymore, Alex! This concerns all of us.”  
“It fucking doesn’t. This is _my_ family, Sam, so it’s _my_ problem. They want me so they can resurrect an ancient goddess and take over the world with monsters.”

“And how do you plan on stopping them on your own?” 

“The first thing I’m going to do is get the fuck away from you and Dean. I told you, Sam, I’m not losing anymore people. If they find me here, they’ll probably kill you like they did Mica. It’s fucking obvious that they have no regard for human life, and I’m not having it.”  
“Do you think it’s that easy? That you can just up and leave after everything we’ve been through?”  
“Yes! Yes, I do think it’s that easy! It’s a no brainer for me. They will kill people I care about to get me to rejoin their ranks. Let me ask you something, what would you do, if you were me?”  
“I would stay, I’d fight to stop them.”  
“That’s some hairy horse shit, Sam. You and I both know that if it would keep Dean safe you’d do whatever it took. I’m leaving.” 

“You have no idea what their plan actually entails! What if they find you, and the plan to resurrect Gaia demands your life instead of just your blood? They need _you_ specifically, Alex. If it were something simple they wouldn’t do what they’ve already done.”

“Just stop! I can’t lose you Sam! I don’t know what’s going on here, but I am not losing you, and I will if my family finds the bunker.”

“Right back at you. I can’t lose you either. We don’t live the best of lives, as hunters, but it’s been a big fucking improvement having you with us. You make us, _me_ , happy, Alex. How the hell do you not see that?” 

“I do see it. But it’s not worth the world ending to let us keep it.” 

“Yes it is. Every single time.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter than usual, I know, but this chapter is special. The song for this chapter is one that I can’t listen to just anytime. It’s special, and needed a special moment in the story, and despite this being a heated argument, the song is calm, but surprisingly, I felt it really fit.


	22. When We Find Ourselves Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so before you read this chapter I just want to say that it's a smut scene, and it’s not really relevant to the story, but I wrote it anyway and now I feel dirty.

The match of wills had left you both slightly breathless, and now Sam was looking at you with an intensity that made you believe every word he’d said. To him, it was worth it. His way of living, day to day, had taught him to see what was and what wasn’t. This was. 

You took two long strides toward him, reaching your arms up around his neck, and pulled him down into a kiss. It was fierce, rough, and so full of emotions it left you gasping. With your mouth open, his tongue pushed inside and the first full taste of him sent your mind into overdrive. He gripped your hips hard, most likely leaving bruises, and one of your hands went up in his hair, holding it so tightly you thought you might be pulling some out by the root. Sam didn’t object, but instead pulled your closer to his chest by letting one of his arms slide around your waist. Standing on your toes to reach, you held onto his shoulder as he started to walk you back toward the wall, pushing you up against it. Gods, yes! With your back to the wall, he gripped one of your legs and wrapped it around his hip as his mouth wandered down to your neck. He found a spot just below your ear that had you moaning loudly and sent a tingling shudder through your body. His hips ground against you and you felt just how hard he was through his jeans, the friction sending a rushing heat between your legs. Suddenly Sam’s mouth disappeared from your neck and you opened your eyes to see his face close to yours. You felt his forehead touching yours, his hot breath against your lips. 

“Y/N…” He trailed off as you pushed your hips away from the wall, pressing against him. The hand that wasn’t wrapped in his hair trailed down under his shirt, scratching the skin on his back, making him groan. Whatever he had been about to try to say didn’t seem to matter anymore, as he lifted you from the wall and wrapped both your legs around him. He smashed his mouth against yours as he turned on the spot and carried you across the room. When his legs hit the side of the bed he simply dropped you on your back, following you down. Your legs stayed around him, pulling him down with you. Having him over you like this, the feeling of letting him be in control, it drove you crazy. You might have been saying something to hint at your thoughts, because suddenly he gripped your hair and pulled your head back. He broke the kiss and leaned down to your ear. 

“Your mine now.” The words made you shiver down to your toes. He sat up on his heels and took off his t-shirt. It was the first time you’d seen his bare chest, and you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, soaking through your underwear. 

He didn’t waste any time, but immediately started unbuttoning your jeans. Neither of you were in the mood to take it slow, and you sat up to be able to reach his belt, wanting him out of his clothes fast. He tugged at your shirt and you raised your arms just as his belt fell open. Sam pulled you up into another kiss, open mouthed and sloppy, but damn near desperate. The discussion you’d had ringed through your mind, and you shuddered at the thought of losing him. His arms went around you and you felt him undo your bra, pulling it down your arms and off. As soon as your chest was as bare as his you pulled him down on top of you again, needing to feel his skin against yours. He started moving against you, and his hard cock, albeit with layers of clothes still between you, felt so goddamn good. One of his hands found your breast, and holy shit you never knew how good that could feel. 

“Sam, please, take it off,” you begged, your voice cracking with need. He didn’t answer, justmoved back slightly to pull off your jeans and underwear in one move. In a few seconds his clothes were all gone as well and he was back between your legs. 

You both stilled for a moment, just feeling each other. Then he caught your mouth in a kiss, his hand reaching down between your legs. When he felt how wet you already were he groaned, and it rumbled deep in his chest. His fingers found your clit and it sent a burst of pleasure through you. You tensed up, gasping, and held onto him as his hand went lower and he pushed two fingers inside. His thumb was pressing against you clit while his fingers moved in and out. The pressure was building fast and you moved your hips, wanting, _needing_ , more. Sam moved his mouth down to your neck again, this time letting his teeth graze against the pulse point. Holy shit. His hand moved faster, thumb rubbing just a little harder, and you felt yourself falling off the edge. Just as your world exploded he bit down on your neck, hard. The bite was like a mark of ownership, and the feeling that came with it made your orgasm last longer than usual. It was like he knew exactly what you needed. 

You were breathing heavily, gasping in his ear. He brought you down slowly, stroking you through the aftershocks. You realised your arms were wound tightly around him, nails digging into his skin. Sam raised his head and looked you in the eyes. He needed you. You raised your head and kissed him, biting down on his lower lip as you started moving your hips again. He damn near growled before pushing his arms under your back and sitting up, bringing you with him. 

Your hands were everywhere, touching him wherever you could. One hand slipped between you to wrap around his cock. After only two strokes he lifted you up and you moved with him to hold his cock between your legs. His tip rubbed against your opening, and you slowly sunk down onto his lap. _Fuck_. It felt amazing. Sam groaned as he sunk deeper into you. In just a few moments he was fully inside. You were shaking against him, emotions and pleasure battling inside you. For some reason this had come to feel like your only chance to be with him, like it would never happen again. It could be true, for all you knew, but you hoped and prayed to whoever was willing to listen, that it wouldn’t be the last time. 

Sam started moving, lifting your hips before pulling you back down. Being sensitive after your first orgasm it didn’t take long before you were close again. You slipped a hand into his hair again and pulled his face towards yours. You kissed him for all you were worth, tongues plundering each others mouths. His movements became erratic, and you slipped a hand down to rub your clit. Sam’s arms locked around you and he groaned, and you felt him come inside you. That set you off, making you clench around him as you tried to hold back your scream. Your body shuddered against him as he gently laid you back down on the bed. He didn’t let go of you, but held you close as he pulled the covers over you both. 


	23. In The Backseat Of A '67 Chevy

“So he convinced you to stay?” You looked up from your bowl of cereal and saw Dean standing in the kitchen doorway. Before answering you took a moment to consider your words.

“I don’t want either of you to get hurt,” you whispered. 

“What the hell gave you the idea that you had any choice?” He didn’t sound menacing or angry. Instead he said it in a way that made you feel one step closer to the realisation that maybe this wasn’t all your fault. 

“Listen, Y/N,” Dean said and stepped into the kitchen. “We’re not letting you go. We’re going to fight this, what your family is doing, together. Believe it or not, me and Sam have faced things way worse than this. We’ll be fine.” 

“I know…” All the emotion of the past few days had drained you, but it was time to step up. You had work to do. Shaking your head, you got up from your seat and wrapped you arms around Dean in a tight hug. He seemed surprised, but hugged you back. Just as you were letting go, you saw Sam step around the corner. 

“Morning,” he said. Without any hesitation whatsoever, you walked around Dean straight to Sam. You stood on your toes and pulled him down for a deep kiss. What had happened between you was something you would never regret. You wanted him, it was as simple as that, and until he told you differently, you weren’t going anywhere. He had to know that. His arms went around your waist and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. 

Just as you were forgetting you weren’t alone in the room, douchebag- uhm, _Dean_ , felt it appropriate to interrupt. You opened your eyes and pulled away from Sam. 

“Dude!”

“What?” he asked, feigning total fucking innocence.

“A little class, maybe? Or is that beneath you?” He grinned. 

_“I was a little too tall, Could’ve used a few pounds…”_

“Everything’s a Bob Seger song to him.” It might have been in spite, but you turned back to Sam and kissed him again, this time making it as obscene and dirty as you dared to. 

“Okay, uncle! This is a _kitchen,_ you know?” 

“You started it.” Dean just mumbled something in response. You grinned at Sam before going back to the table to finish your cereal. 

Around lunchtime Sam got a call about a possible vampire nest up in Nebraska. Apparently there wasn’t anyone else close by, so the brothers had gotten the call. Not close enough to hear exactly what was being said, you only saw Sam glancing over at you while talking. Dean had already gone to pack a bag and wasn’t in the room with you. Sam hung up and walked over to you. 

“Looks like we’ll have to leave for a few days…” 

“And?” He laughed nervously. 

“And I’m not sure you should come with us. It’s a milk run, won’t take long, but you’ve never been hunting. I don’t think I could do what I have to if I’m worried about you, which I will be.” You smiled up at him. 

“Would it make you feel better if I said I don’t want to go?” 

“Yupp.” 

“Well then, I don’t want to go.” And you didn’t. This was basically their job, and you didn’t have any desire to stick your nose in their business. You’d be safe in the bunker, you knew that. Aside from Cas the angelman, no one else could come in so you’d just stay here and wait for them. It didn’t seem like you had all that many leads on your family anyway, so there wasn’t much to do.

Sam wrapped his arms around your waist and you let your hands settle on his chest. Youmight have spread your fingers and you may have really enjoyed his warmth and, well, firmness. Damn, you’d miss him while he was gone. Almost like he could read your mind (or it was just that obvious) he grinned and leaned down to capture your lips with his. The kiss started out slow, like it was meant as a pre-goodbye one, but you couldn’t help yourself. Your arms went around his neck and you pressed yourself against him, letting your tongue slip out to tease his lips. He immediately opened his mouth and you pushed your tongue inside. He tasted to damn good, _felt_ so damn good. 

It seemed like you were doomed for a life with interruption. 

“Oh, come on!” You broke the kiss, panting slightly. 

“Would you mind terribly if I accidentally shot him?” you whispered in Sam’s ear. 

“Not at all, go right ahead,” he answered. That made you laugh and you stepped out of his arms. 

“When are you leaving?” you asked him.

“Five minutes ago, but Sam was busy.” 

“Okay, that’s it.” You started to pull your gun from your waistband, but Sam stopped you. 

“Not in the library.” Dipshit, he was laughing. Dean smirked. 

“Let’s go, Sammy.” Sam kissed you one more time before heading to his room to grab his things. Dean watched him leave before turning to you. 

“Thank you.”

“For what?” 

“Sam… He’s happy.” You smiled.

The brothers hadn’t been gone more than eight hours when your phone rang. An unknown number, so it wasn’t them calling to check up on you. You hesitated with you thumb hovering over the answer button. Before you could make a decision it stopped ringing. You frowned. Two weeks ago you would have just answered and fended off whatever salesperson it was, but now you felt damn near paranoid. You didn’t know if your family kept exact track of you, so you didn’t want to take chances that could end up biting you in the ass. Your phone rang again, still unknown number. You let it ring without answering. Deciding that this was some bullshit, you dialled Sam’s number. It went to voicemail, unsurprisingly. They were probably in the middle of finding the nest, and would call back when they could. 

Once again your phone rang again. Damn it, you had to answer. 

“Y/N here.”

“It’s been a long time, my dear daughter.” You felt the blood drain from your face. 

“Dad?” you whispered. 

“I’m must say, I was a little surprised when I realised you’d come to Texas with the Winchesters. I was hoping you’d stay away, young Mica really didn’t deserve that.” Tears started to leak rom your eyes. 

“Why did you do it?” 

“Dearest Y/N, I thought you’d understand. Mica was a means to an end, as was her death. Had you stayed away she would have lived. Her death however, showed you I’ll do whatever I have to, to get you to come back to us.”  
“Why do you want me back?”

“Is it that hard to understand? We miss you, Y/N, we want to bring the family back together. You mother hasn’t been the same since your sister died and you left.” Bringing up Leah to gain sympathy was way out of line.

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you _fucking dare_ to talk about Leah. I don’t know exactly what happened that night, but I do know you and mom are responsible.”  
“Now why do you think that?” 

“Doesn’t matter. You lost the right to her when she died. And to then tell the world I was dead too? Is your reputation worth more than your family? If so, why the hell should I even consider coming back?” 

“Leah’s death was tragic-”

“Just stop.” He took a deep breath. 

“Okay then. I don’t think I have to paint you a picture of what will happen if you refuse me, Y/N. I realise you’ve grown close to the Winchesters, as they saved your life.” You weren’t going to tell him just how much more than that they’d done for you. He had enough ammo as it were. 

“What’s your point?” 

“My point is, that little bunker of theirs isn’t as safe as they think it is. I did you the courtesy of waiting until they were out of town, but I won’t be refused.” No. No, no, no, no, no. Not them, not again. He couldn’t do that, could he? But he knew where you were, he knew how to get in…

Could you do it? Could you bring yourself to leave, when just this morning you’d come to the conclusion that that was the last thing you’d do? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hii! Posting earlier than usual because I’m working night/closing shifts for the next three days, so I’m posting this chapter as a sort of pre-apology if I don’t get the chance to update tomorrow or thursday. Thank you so much for the encouragement and reviews, you’re all amazing! :D


	24. What Will I Do If My Life's On The Line?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hii! I’m so sorry, the last week has been crazy. I was working, then I wasn’t working and my sleep got all fucked up because I work really late and today I took the swedish equivalent of the SATs, running on about 5 hours of sleep ‘:D I love you all, you are amazing, so here’s some more angst for you! :D

“Hey, sorry I couldn’t pick up earlier. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine, just wanted to check on you. How’d it go?”  
“Well enough…”  
“What does that mean?” 

“What that means, Dorothy, is that they all got first class tickets to colombian neckties.”

“Thanks for that visual, Dean, I didn’t need to eat today.” Dean laughed. You were trying your best to keep your tone as normal as possible, really hoping they wouldn’t catch on and figure out something was wrong. 

“Okay, so, see you in a few hours?” 

“Yeah, we’re already on our way.”

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye, Y/N.” You hung up before he could say anything else. 

Most of your things would have to stay in the bunker. Being able to move fast was a must if this was going to work, and hauling bags on your bike would definitely slow you down. Backpack packed, you headed towards the garage. 

_“Okay, I’ll do it.”_  
“That makes me glad to hear, Y/N.”  
“I don’t really care how it makes you feel, dad.” 

_“Now, now…”  
“Listen, you know why I’m doing this, and I want your word.” He actually had the nerve to laugh, like this was all a game to him. It probably was._

_“You have my word that I will not harm the Winchesters.”_

_“Good. Where do I go?”_

_“Now slow down, dearie, this has to be done right.”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“The brothers’ pet angel, is he around?”_

_“Not at the moment…”  
“But he can show up at any time.” Not a question. _

_“Yes.”_

_“Okay, here’s what you need to do…”_

The knife in your pocket felt like it was weighing a thousand pounds. Just as you opened the door to the garage, you felt something, like a shift in the air. You slowly turned around and found Castiel standing right behind you. Geez, someone _had_ to teach this guy a thing or two about personal space. 

“Cas?”  
“What are you doing?” 

“Going for a ride, what are _you_ doing?” He didn’t answer, just narrowed his eyes. 

“You’re leaving.”  
“Yeah… To go for a ride…” You shook your head at him and turned back to go through the door to the garage. Cas followed you. You stopped when you got to your bike and took a deep breath. 

“I’m so sorry, Cas.” You dropped and slammed your hand against the sigil on the floor. A bright light burst through the room and when you turned around Cas the angelman was gone. Look at that, your dad told the truth. You didn’t waste a second, but got on your bike and hauled ass out of the bunker. 

Tears flowed down your cheeks as you rode down the street, in the opposite direction of where the brothers would be coming from. You couldn’t take the chance of meeting them on the way, especially since you’d promised to stay put. It broke your heart, having to leave them, but you had to go. You didn’t know what made you believe your dad when he said he wouldn’t hurt them, but it was the best you had. He’d shown he wouldn’t be pulling his punches when it came to getting you back. But something was still nagging your mind. _“You can always trust a dishonest man to be dishonest. It’s the honest man you should not trust, for you never know when he would be dishonest.”_ Scary how someone so cracked would be a voice of reason in your life. 

After driving for about five hours you took a turn onto an old country road, about half an hour outside a town, and eventually got to what could only be described as a mansion. You parked your baby out front, wanting an easy escape should you need it. This was it… Getting off the bike you tucked your gun into the back of your jeans again. Just because you’d agreed to meet your dad didn’t mean you trusted him wholeheartedly. 

You walked up to the mansion, on edge and _very_ aware of your surroundings. You didn’t see another car, or anything, really, that indicated anyone else was there. The place looked abandoned, no lights were on inside the house. Your hand was twitching, wanting to reach for your gun as you walked up the stairs to the front porch. Just as you reached for the handle someone opened the door from inside. You went to draw your gun at the person standing in the doorway… and heard several clicks behind you. Rounds being chambered. Fuck. There were some serious trust issues going on here, but what else could be expected from a family like yours? 

“Hands in the air. Slowly,” a sharp voice ordered from behind you. You did as he said.

“Really, Y/N? Is that how you greet your father after two whole years?” the man in the doorway said. You didn’t move an inch, or break eye contact with him. It was your dad.

“After what you did, yes it is.” There was movement in your periphery, but you didn’t dare to look away from your father. He raised an eyebrow at you and you rolled your eyes. He nodded at one of the guards behind you.

“At ease, Arnold.” _Arnold? Really?_ Movement behind you let you know they had lowered their guns but you were in no rush to move your hands just yet. They seemed like a trigger happy bunch. 

“Now, isn’t that much more civilised?” You were sick of this.

“Why am I here, dad?” He sighed. 

“Won’t you at least come inside?” You looked around and saw the guards for the first time. Black BDU’s, kevlar vests, earpieces and handguns, the lot of them. Clones, you might call them. You lowered your hands.

“Why? There’s no one around.” Hired guns didn’t count in your book. 

“Because we need to talk, and I’d much prefer to do it inside the house.”  
“Fine. As long as you keep Terminator on a leash.” Arnold huffed in annoyance. 

You followed your dad into the mansion. The foyer was huge with a friggin’ double staircase leading upstairs. You had to take a moment to take it all in before following your dad as he walked between the stairs and to the left, into what looked like a living room facing the backyard. He sat down in an armchair, leaving the couch to you. You sat down facing him, feeling at a great disadvantage with your back to the door. 

“So, are you going to answer my question?” 

“I thought I had, several times over.”

“No, no, you gave me _your_ answer, not the one I want.” 

“And what makes you think you’ll just be handed what you want?” 

“The fact that you wanted me back. I left the Winchesters because of what you did to Mica, but I have full faith that they can survive you.” He chuckled. 

“I have no doubt.” Yeah, he was fully convinced he could kill them whenever he pleased. His word meant jack. He looked you straight in the eye.

“It’s true we wanted you back, the family together again. But as I’m sure you’ve already found out, we need you for something else as well.” So he wasn’t going to deny it. Deciding to cut the crap, you answered for him.

“Gaia’s resurrection.”


	25. She's Gone

Sam stood in the middle of her room, in complete disbelief. She was gone. She’d left him, left them both. Every part of her was still there, but she wasn’t. Even her music was still there. 

_“Oh, take your time don't live too fast. Troubles will come, and they will pass. Go find a woman, and you'll find love. And don't forget, son, there is someone up above. And be a simple kind of man. Oh, be somethin' you love and understand.”_

It was coming from her loudspeaker, like she was going to walk in any second, and punch a hole in this new, terrifying reality Sam found himself in. He didn’t register the sound of the door opening behind him, and jumped when Dean’s hand touched his shoulder. 

“What’s going on? There was a used angel banishing sigil on the floor in the garage…” He looked around the room and realised there was something really wrong. 

“She’s gone.” Sam’s choked whisper scared Dean. He knew Y/N and his brother had been close, hell maybe even falling for each other. It was something his brother needed, and despite his teasing he did his best to not get in the way. He thought they’d managed to convince Y/N that nothing that was happening was on her, that they would be fighting this together. Had he been that wrong?

Sam couldn’t stand it anymore. He turned his back on the ugly truth of Y/N leaving, and left the room. Dean stayed behind. His mind was already going over different reasons of exactly why she would leave in the first place, and then how the hell they were going to get her back. Sam couldn’t think at all. His mind kept going back to their conversation just the day a few days before…

_“You make us,_ me _, happy, Y/N. How the hell do you not see that?”_

_“I do see it. But it’s not worth the world ending to let us keep it.”_

_“Yes it is. Every single time.”_

Sam had been so goddamn hopeful that this time Fate would work in his favour, despite the unlikeliness of her being that gracious. He thought Y/N would stay, that she was someone he could come to depend on. Had he been that wrong?

He walked back to his room, trying to hold keep his anger in check. It had been years since he felt anything like this, and he hated it. He had to let it out. When he opened his door he was met with a sight that only served to piss him off even more. He’d told Y/N how the bunker had become something of a home to him and Dean. What a fucking joke. The only homey thing about Sam’s room was the few magazines on the desk and the slightly rumpled look the sheets had. Had the closet been open his clothes might have added to the feel, but being the neat freak that he was, the doors were closed. 

The anger bubbled to the surface and at that moment he didn’t give two shits about anything. Y/N was gone, and there didn’t seem to be anything he could’ve done to stop her. For all he knew she’d said she wanted to stay in the bunker as a way to get rid of him and Dean. And she obviously knew more about the supernatural than she let on, having most likely used the blood sigil against Cas. 

The first thing he went for was the closet, gripping the top and dragging it to the ground in a satisfying crash. Then the desk, the lamp standing on it breaking when it landed on the floor, shards from the bulb spreading around his feet. He grabbed hold of the chair and smashed it against the concrete wall. The rushing in his ears muffled all the sounds around him. Just as he was going for the shelves filled with old books he felt someone take hold of his arms, trapping them behind his back. 

“Sam! Sammy, listen to me!” It was then Sam realised he was screaming and fighting against the person restraining him. But he’d recognise that voice anywhere. It was Dean. He was holding Sam’s arms in an iron grip, not letting up one bit. “CALM DOWN!” Dean yelled straight in his ear. 

Sam stopped screaming, but was still fighting against Dean’s hold on him. Dean couldn’t keep his hold and Sam tore free. His room was wrecked. Dean hadn’t seen Sam this angry since… Since before the apocalypse. He seemed to have gotten past it, but maybe he hadn’t. Or everything with Y/N brought it all back. Dean didn’t know. He and Sam hadn’t had the best time the past couple of years, ever since he busted out of purgatory, but it had seemed that nowadays they were at a point of understanding. But Dean didn’t understand this.

Sam turned to face Dean, panting heavily from his outburst. He didn’t say anything, just balled his fists up and seemed to be trying to calm down. Dean gave him a few minutes, waited until Sam unclenched his fists before speaking.

“What happened, Sam?” 

“She left.”  
“Yeah, but you don’t know why.” Sam didn’t answer for a few minutes.  
“I thought she understood that leaving the bunker wouldn’t protect us in any way.”  
“You don’t know what happened while we were gone, Sam.”

“But why wouldn’t she tell us?”

“Probably the same reason Mica couldn’t outright tell Y/N she was being threatened.” 

“Her family.” 

“Bingo.” Sam rubbed his hands over his face. 

“I still don’t get it, did they contact her or what?”

“Maybe. Maybe that’s why she called us during the hunt.” 

“And we didn’t pick up…”

“That’s on both of us.” Sam didn’t answer. 

“I don’t know about you, Sammy, but I’m gonna find a way to get her back.” Sam looked at his big brother. And believed every word he said. 

“And if she doesn’t want to be found?”  
“Tough shit, she doesn’t have a choice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter just called for the brothers’ POV. I’ve tried to keep it the reader’s POV, because it just felt better while I was writing, but now I just had to. The song Sam hears is Simple Man, which also inspired chapter 21 “Won’t You Do This For Me, Sam, If You Can”. And yes, it is the Jensen Ackles version, and it really gets to me, it’s so beautiful. I had this idea early on, that the reader would be leaving and Sam would hear Simple Man playing, and I’m happy I could work it into the story.


	26. In The Garden Of Eden, Beware The Snake

_“Gaia’s resurrection.”_

 

“Well, look at that. I knew you knew some things, but that’s not exactly common knowledge, even in my own circles.” 

“Why would you hide it?” 

“I don’t like the idea of any opposition to my cause.” 

“I would figure the monsters would be all for this venture.”  
“My darling Y/N, that might not be the case at all. See, while Gaia is the mother of many monsters, she’s not the mother of them all.”  
“And what does that mean?” Your dad stood from his seat and walked over to the window, looking for all the world like it wasn’t just miles of open landscape and woods outside. 

“Let me ask you, have you ever heard of purgatory?”  
“I’ve heard different versions.”

“Would you like to know the real one?” You snorted.

“At this point, ‘real’ feels like a relative term.” Laughter. It seemed like this whole thing had put him in a good mood.  
“Quite right.” He looked at you. “By now you probably know that when humans die, we either go to heaven or hell. The question is, where does a monster’s soul go when the creature dies?” Huh.

“… Purgatory.” He nodded, and turned back to the view. 

“Precisely. But monsters, like humans, had to come from somewhere. As I said before, Gaia is not the mother of them all. The monsters that go to purgatory were birthed by someone else. Her name was Eve.”  
“Eve? As in… Adam and Eve? And what do you mean ‘was’?”  
“The Winchesters killed her a quite a few years ago now. However, her children remain. As for the name, I actually don’t know.” 

“So why would the monsters be against Gaia’s resurrection?” 

“Because they most likely believe that she might not be too kind to them, being that they’re not her creations.” Meaning she might end up killing them.

“But you don’t know that for sure.”

“Exactly, and I prefer my clientele stay loyal to me.” You huffed a laugh. 

“Well? Would she kill them?” you asked. He seemed to think about it for a moment. 

“I don’t think so. Actually, I don’t think she will care all that much.” Well, okay then.

“Okay so if the ‘children of Eve’ go to purgatory, where do Gaia’s creations go when they die?” 

“Someplace deeper, and in a way, older, than purgatory.” You waited.  
“… Does this place have a name?” He huffed and rolled his eyes.

“No need to get smart.” You just waited. “It’s called tartarus.” 

“Like greek mythology tartarus?” 

“Yes.” 

This was rich. You dad was lying through his teeth to his… clients? Customers? Whatever. 

“There are several things I still don’t understand.” 

“And you need to understand everything about what I’m doing?” 

“If you want my help, then yes.”  
“What makes you think I won’t just force you?” 

“Because you would’ve done it already.” Your dad turned back to you, looking… Was he impressed? He smirked and walked back to the armchair, leaning against the back of it.

“Touché. Ask.”

“Why wake her up?”   
“Gaia’s power is unimaginable. Mother Earth herself. With her awake, everything can be set right.”  
“Set right?”

“Look at this world, Y/N. You can’t honestly say it’s a good one.” No, you couldn’t.

“Does that give you the right to try to ‘fix’ it?

“It’s meant to be.” You looked your father in the eye. There was a gleam in them, something that told you he wouldn’t allow anyone to stop him. It scared you. 

“So what exactly is it that you need from me?” Your voice had dropped to a whisper. His face broke out in a smile. 

“Not much, my daughter. As the effigy that binds the goddess is tied to our family, our blood, that is what I will need from you. Your blood.” Without breaking eye contact you stood from you seat. You tried to hold back the tears in that suddenly threatened to fall, because you’d finally understood something you’d been wondering for the past two years. 

“Okay. But first answer one thing.”  
“Of course.” 

“Did you kill my sister for _this_?” 

He didn’t say anything for a long time. 

“Y/N, you won’t have to die…”  
“That’s not what I asked.” He turned his back to you. 

“… It had to be done.” The dam broke and the tears started slipping down your face. He killed Leah for… For what? Power? A fucking perfect world?

“Where’s mom in all this?” 

“Right here, just upstairs.” 

“How much does she know?”  
“Everything.” Hah! 

So that’s how it was. Leah was dead, and if you didn’t do what he wanted, your father would kill the only two people who mattered to you anymore. By now they would be back at the bunker and know you were gone. You hoped, against all odds, that they would let you go and understand what had made you leave. Hard headed they may be, but not stupid. They had to know you _had_ to choose this. 

Your father suddenly looked down at his watch. 

“My, look at the time.” You shook your head and hastily wiped your tears before he could see them. “Come along, there’s something I’d like to show you, and someone I think it’s time you finally met.”

“What and who?” Without answering, your father started walking out of the room, and you were quick to follow him. To your great annoyance, Arnold was standing guard right outside the room you’d just been in. You caught up to your father and walked alongside him.

“Why are we even here?” 

“Y/N, you may be my child, but after two years I felt a little caution was just common sense. To make sure no one who might be following you could later follow me, I had guards placed all along the road leading from the town to this house.” Makes sense. 

“Just so you know, you’re gonna get my bike cleaned up,” you muttered under your breath. Letting yourself get angry at your dad wasn’t an option. You needed time, and staying on his good side was the best way to get it. 

He led the way up the stairs and into another kind of living room. Standing looking out the window with her back to the door was a woman. Tall, slim and dressed to the nines, you’d recognise your mother anywhere. When she heard you and your father come in she turned around. 

“Y/N, my baby girl.” She started walking toward you but you held your hands up. 

“Please don’t. I’ve had about as much as I can take of family reunions today.” 

“Then I guess you won’t be too happy to meet me as well,” a voice spoke up from a corner of the room. With your mother taking all your focus you hadn’t even noticed the man who was also in the room. Once again your hand went to your gun, but was grabbed and held tightly behind your back. Fuck! You hadn’t even noticed Arnold following you, the man was deadly silent. 

“Now, Y/N. We’ve already been over this. Please behave.” 

“Fine.” Arnold let you go, but didn’t take your gun. Smart guy. “If you tell me who the hell that is,” you said, pointing to the man. Before your father could answer, the man stood up.

“How rude of me.” He straightened his suit and buttoned it before walking forward. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m William Ritchie, but you, Y/N, can call me uncle Bill.” He held his hand out with a smile. You stood frozen for a few seconds before turning to you parents. 

“An uncle? You never told me I had a fucking uncle.” Uncle Bill answered for them.

“You mother didn’t know until recently, and it was best for your whole family that only your father knew about me.” 

“How recent is recently?” You saw him exchange a quick glance with your father before answering. 

“About a year and a half ago.” Okay, you’d buy into their bullshit. You turned to your mom and dad.

“Dad, I mean this in the most sincere way possible. You’re full of shit.” Maybe not buy into it completely. He took it in stride, though. “So what’s uncle Bill’s role in all this?” 

“Bill is the intermediary and negotiator during transactions between our family’s organisation and the head’s of the monsters. He also provides legal counsel and aid.” Uncle Bill had a somewhat arrogant look on his face. Ew. 

After a few moments of everyone just standing around looking at each other you decided to just ask. 

“There was something you wanted to show me?” Your father sprung into motion like someone had poked him. 

“Ah, yes. Come over by the window.” You moved slowly through the room, keeping your eyes on everyone there, hoping that you wouldn’t do anything that might get you accidentally terminated. 

Your father pointed out the window, to a point beyond the flat lands surrounding the mansion, deep in the woods. 

“Do you see that hill among the trees?” You nodded. 

“What’s up there?” you asked. He handed you a pair of binoculars and you raised them to get a closer look at the hill. On the top of it you could make out a collection of standing stones. Three circles, the innermost made of the tallest stones that came together at the top, creating a kind of spire. Even from here, just seeing it gave you the feeling that something was off about it.

“What is that?” you asked, although by now you damn near knew the answer. 

“It’s where she will rise…” There was a kind of reverence in his voice. You lowered the binoculars and looked at your father. He was staring out the window toward the hill. His belief in this was astounding. He already worshipped the goddess, he’d do anything to raise her. But seeing that place… It felt so wrong. What your dad had described, Gaia saving the earth… He’d made it out to be something good, but being here you knew Mother Earth was anything but good. If she were, she would never have been put to rest in the first place. 

“Dad.” He looked at you, a look of faith and pure joy on his face. “Why was the effigy tied to our family?”

“So that there would be hope for the goddess one day.” 

“Are you sure about that?” Your dad took your hands in his. 

“I have never been more sure of anything in my life, my Y/N. She was meant to be raised to the surface, fully awake.” _No, she isn’t,_ you thought. You took back what you’d thought earlier. You hoped to fucking god that Sam and Dean figured out where the fuck you were, because you couldn’t do this alone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My schedule for this weekend is work work work, closing shifts. I will do my best my darlings, but I dare not make promises. I will write as often as I can, and I will see Motels through to the end. On the plus side, I am learning the job so fast and I love it (even though it’s a fast food burger place). I have several ideas for news fics once Motels is wrapped up, possibly one or two crossovers, if it works out… Any requests? :P


	27. Don't Let Her Die A Renegade

It had been over two weeks since Y/N left, and Dean was starting to get really worried about his brother. Her departure from the bunker had left him… Dean couldn’t think of a better word than “broken”. He was robotic, did everything on autopilot, no emotion on his face or in his voice. He wouldn’t talk about anything that didn’t have to do with research on Y/N’s family, trying to find her. After about a week of looking, and finding nothing, they’d gotten a call from a fellow hunter who’d caught wind of a potential case in their area. Dean had barely managed to get Sam to agree to check it out, but eventually they’d been on their way. It had turned out to be a simple ghost problem, but the whole thing had been made unnecessarily difficult by Sam not having his head in the game. Dean had thought his newfound, almost maniacal, focus would make him even more efficient than usual. Boy, had he been wrong. Sam wouldn’t drop the research on the Ritchies, couldn’t focus on the case. Dean tried to get him to drop it for just a couple days, and Sam had sucker punched him right in the nose. Without apologising, he went back to his computer. 

When they got back to the bunker, Dean had to give in and realise that Sam would be useless until they found Y/N. So he dove right into the work alongside his brother. When Cas finally appeared again, having not answered any of Dean’s calls, he explained how Y/N had used an altered banishing sigil against him. Dean questioned it, having found nothing weird about it when he first saw the scorch marks in the garage. Cas explained that while the shape of it was the same, she’d used another ingredient, other than blood, to draw it. Whatever it was had cranked up the power significantly, so much that it actually knocked the angel out for a full two days. This made Dean wonder just how much the Ritchies knew about the supernatural. He’d assumed they’d just had dealings with monsters, but it looked like they might have enough knowledge to rival the Men of Letters, which was a scary thought. 

Their research bearing no results, they’d been forced to consider another angle, and Dean could kick himself for not thinking of it sooner. Instead of trying to dig into the family, they should be digging into the lore about the goddess. That should prove more helpful, as they might be able to figure out the how and the where, instead of the why. They’d had to go deep into the archives, as ancient Greece didn’t really have a place in the US, and so this chapter of the Men of Letters hadn’t made it a priority. There was definitely material to be found, but none as specific as they needed. So it was that Cas ended up halfway across the world trying to find something that could help them. 

Dean looked at his brother. He looked like he’d stayed topside after an appointment in Samarra. In other words, he looked like shit. He wasn’t sleeping, barely eating. What was it about Y/N that had his brother so desperate? Just as he was contemplating whether a threat at gunpoint would get his brother to hit the sack, Cas appeared in the room, looking triumphant, if a little worse for wear. Sam looked up from his screen, and they both held their tongues and listened as Cas started talking. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, that’s where it’s happening.”

“When?” 

“Soon.”

“How do you know she’s even there?”

“I don’t.”

“We don’t have a choice.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work, work, work. Sorry again… But good news! This next week I have a much more relenting schedule so more updates will come! :D


	28. Daddy's Twisted Nerve

Your dad had told you everything about the rising. He’d told you exactly what you had to do, exactly what you had to give. You’d be hanging onto life by a fingertip if things went south, which they very well could. He didn’t even seem to care much, which, granted, didn’t surprise you, but made you question whether he ever really cared about you or your sister. How long had he been planning this? Was having kids just another step in his plan? Everything just kept running through your head over the next two weeks while he made preparations. In your short time back with your family, you’d already seen that he had become damn near paranoid. He didn’t trust many people, and only you, your parents, uncle Bill and Arnie would be there for the rising.

The first night in the mansion you heard sounds coming from the woods around you. When you asked your father he said the energy surrounding this place right now was drawing the attention of every monster close by. They could feel the ground moving in a way humans couldn’t. 

“And you’re totally cool with that?” you asked with raised eyebrows. 

“The area has been sufficiently warded against any and all monsters.”

“Again, this is totally fine?” 

“Yes, it is. They can’t even come close to us.”

“They’re close enough to be heard from the house.” 

“Y/N, would you just trust me on this?” He looked frustrated. 

“Dad, there are monsters literally surrounding us, probably waiting for the first opportunity to rip us to shreds.” 

“I know! But it’s almost time, and the wards will hold.” He seemed very sure of this. You took a deep breath. 

“Okay. I’ll trust you on this.” Not likely.

You’d expected your father to start the ritual as soon as he had you in his clutches, but that wasn’t the case. After spending a night at the mansion you were taken to the nearby town. You parked outside a tall apartment building. You’d told your dad that he’d have to kill you to get you to leave your bike behind, and he relented. As long as you stayed close to his cars. 

In the downtime, between your arrival and the rising, your father did his best to introduce you to his organisation. Your stay there was precarious as best, and the best you dared to hope for was that he needed you alive for the ritual, so you listened intently, trying to appear as if you were taking in his every word. After a few days, it started getting to you, and you actually got invested in what your father was doing. The first thing he did was go over the basics of the operation, giving you insight to something that had been in motion long before you were even born. You learned that the business was mainly located in Europe and North America. Thin branches stretched to other continents, but the Ritchies had realised long ago that their biggest advantages lay close to home. Going global hadn’t been an option way back when, and the family had, before your father took the reins, decided to stick where there was history. 

The family made it’s profit from buying and selling rare artefacts, providing safe-from-human-law hunting grounds for monsters, and running a black market on human organs that were definitely not intended for illegal transplants. Shudder… Another part of the operation was lining the pockets of other criminal families, with interest of course. Families that just happened to consist entirely of monsters. You remembered hearing the brothers mentioning Chicago, and a few days after reuniting with your family they confirmed what Sam and Dean had said about the monster mob. 

“Our biggest alliance lies with the Chicago Families. They hold great power among the monsters and have, for the most part, been accepted as intermediaries between us and bigger, more widespread, monster communities.”  
“For the most part?” 

“In some cases, it’s not possible to efficiently gather monsters, or organise them into a working society. Chicago, in a way, is a rarity.”

“What cases?”

“Take, for example, rugarus-”

“What’s a rugaru?”

“That’s part of the explanation. See, they start out human. Some of them have no idea what they are, but they can mate with humans and pass on the gene. They grow up normal, but around 30 years old, they start changing. The biggest change is their hunger, it grows until the inevitably take a bite of the biggest prize.”  
“Which is…?”

“Long pig.” Okay, ew. “Once they have a taste, they change fast. They become inhumanly strong, their flesh rots, and they can’t go back. They’re uncontrollable and not always self-aware.”

“Does that harm you business in any way?” All part of the charade? Right? Shit. Your dad tried to hide his smug grin.

“Well, keeping monsters a secret is necessary for this all to work. That’s why hunters exist. If all monsters could be controlled we would have no need for hunters. Hell, they’d probably be extinct by now…” 

You thought about Sam and Dean, getting to live a normal life… Selfishly, you immediately discarded that thought. You’d never have met them if they had lived a normal life. And your own family would still be as twisted as it was today. You hated to admit it, but you were intrigued by how this family conducted it’s business, despite the organ dealings. It made you sick to think that, if it hadn’t been for Leah’s death, you might have eventually joined your father of your own free will. However, despite already knowing one of his biggest secrets, you were still positive he was hiding things, and you hated to think what it could be. Interest in the business aside, your goal was still clear; stop your father from resurrecting the goddess, preferably without dying in the process. You didn’t see how you could do it, though, with so many guards around. The only thing you could think was that it would have to happen during the ritual, and you’d just have to play along until then.

“So back to your alliance with Chicago…”

“Ah, yes. You see…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had a friend read my story today and practically hounded her for her opinion on it :P and after that we watched the latest episodes of season 13. On that note, thank you so much to everyone who reads Motels, leaves kudos, and especially thank you to all of you who leave reviews and encourage me :D It means the world and inspires me to keep going :)   
> Blackangel150 you are golden, and you've been reading for a while, you're awesome, thank you! :D And beckini, who understood my Dorothy reference, noticed my nod to The Hillywood Show (which is AWESOME) and who encourages me to write and Carry On, you're amazing :D


	29. Will There Be Peace When We Are Done?

You’d gone far into the woods, following a narrow road uphill. The trees grew almost all the way to the top, obscuring the view down below. As you’d seen from the house there was a collection of tall standing stones at the top of the hill. The sun was just sinking toward the horizon when you got off your bike. Since your father hadn’t taken any significant steps in getting to trust you, Arnold had driven right behind you in a car. Your father was already there, together with uncle Bill and your mother. 

The sight that met you when you took off your helmet made your skin crawl. Torches were lining the outermost ring of stones, and your dad was standing in the space under the top created by the ring in the middle, your uncle and mother on either side of him. The light from the torches lit their faces from below. With sundown fast approaching, the darkness was starting to come out of the woods. It was eerie, how fucking fairytale everything started to feel with a few trees, a sunset and a couple of torches. 

You walked toward them, Arnold following closely behind you, and joined them in the middle. There was a small fire burning on the ground, the five of you standing in a circle around it. The small space was cast in shadows, the stones blocking out the little sunlight that remained. 

_“Why? Why him?”_

_“It doesn’t matter who, all that matters is that it’s human, and straight from the vein.”_

_“So why do you need mine?”_

_“Because the ritual demands a human death, and our family’s blood. As my only living heir, I choose to spare your life.”_

_“Good to know you care, dad.”_

You saw your father and uncle exchange a look before they both lunged at Arnold. When he reacted and his focus was pulled to the two of them you moved as fast as you could, pulling your gun and knife. You pressed the barrel against the back of his head, somehow managing to get the knife around his neck. He froze and you tightened your hold. 

“Get on your knees,” you hissed in his ear. As expected, but to your horror and disgust, he immediately did as you asked. It made you sick that your father hadn’t just settled for trading Arnold’s life for yours, but that you had to be the one to end it. A test of loyalty? At this point, you didn’t give a flying fuck. All you cared about was staying alive. The hope that Sam and Dean might find where you was shrinking with each passing minute. The ritual was happening, and you still didn’t know how to stop it. 

With Arnold on his knees, facing the fire, you looked at your father. He nodded, holding you eyes with his. You took a deep breath, pulling the air in through your nose, tightened your grip on the knife and dragged it across the soft flesh of Arnold’s neck. Warmth flowed over your hand, but you couldn’t look down and literally _see_ the blood on it. It felt like it would never wash off… 

“Y/N, hold him over the fire.” You tried to pull yourself together and grabbed hold of Arnold’s jacket, leaning him forward. The blood sizzled as it landed on the hot coals. Just as the blood was starting to slow down your dad started chanting. You didn’t know the language, but he had told you what it meant. 

_Gaia, the great mother, whom we lay our bare feet upon. Gaia, the first mother, whom we lay our bare cheek upon. Gaia, the oldest mother, whom we lay our bare selves upon._

You let go of Arnold, and he dropped, dead, on the ground. You were up next. You pulled a clean knife from your pocket, and flipped it open, lining it up with your arm. 

Then you hesitated. Your father had said that only a little blood was needed for the ritual to work, but you looked down at Arnold and realised _he’d_ trusted your father, and wound up losing _way_ too much blood. You waited, hoping against hope that it wasn’t too late, that the brothers would appear behind you and somehow have a way to fix all this. You’d remembered how Sam had talked about a plan that had been in motion for decades, and your dad had filled the gaps when you asked, telling you this was the final ritual in a series of three, all around the world. The night your sister died was the night of the second ritual. You learned that your dad’s own mother had been sacrificed in the first ritual, just after he was born. The rituals demanded lives to be taken, but he’d told you didn’t have to die. The goddess could decide to spare you. What a load of bullshit. 

“Now, Y/N.” His voice shook you out of your thoughts and you gripped the knife tighter. Looked like you didn’t have a choice. You sliced into your skin. The metal left a burning sting as your blood started to flow down your arm, and just as the first drop hit the fire the earth shifted and began to move under your feet. You held steady, letting the blood continue to drip into the flames. Cracks appeared at your feet, the earth crumbling beneath you. A bright light, brighter than when you’d banished Cas from the bunker, shone through the cracks, coming up, out of the ground. Your uncle and mother were looking into the fire, seemingly mesmerised by the light. You looked at your father. He was on his knees, smiling, tears running down his face. 

You went to pull your arm back from its place over the flames, but suddenly a strong force was keeping you in place. Something began to literally pull the blood from your body. You gasped in pain and fell to your knees. 

“Dad! What’s happening?” 

“She’s rising!” 

You held your bleeding arm in a tight grip, trying to pull it back, but the force just held on stronger and stronger. Bright dots of lights started swimming in your field of vision, and you knew you were going to pass out. 

Just as the tempting darkness of unconsciousness was dragging you down you heard the most amazing sound. The deep roar of a car engine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So for this chapter I listened to the version of carry on that’s in the fan fiction episode (I love it, I think it’s beautiful). But I thought about it, and both versions fit. And come on, I know that whenever you hear carry on (kansas version) you get nostalgic and think about the boys and baby. It’s just how it is :P


	30. Let Me Burn

“Y/N!” That was _his_ voice. He was here. You pulled yourself up from the promising darkness and saw them running toward you. The cracks were spreading out from the circles, stopping them halfway. That’s when you heard it. A rumbling that grew louder and louder. You sat up as much as you could with your hand all but tied to the flames. The heat was burning the skin on the back of your hand and the smoke stung your eyes and lungs. If you didn’t do something you were going to die. You looked over your shoulder and saw both Sam and Dean had drawn their guns to shoot the people around you. 

“Y/N, move!” Dean yelled. 

“I can’t! She’s holding me down!” 

“Fuck!” Dean tried to move around the circle to get a clear shot. You looked at Sam, and he nodded. You knew what he meant, you’d thought it yourself. Your father had to die, it was the only surefire way to stop the ritual. Dean appeared next to Sam again, saying something to him. They both turned to you, looking completely hopeless. There was nothing they could do. They couldn’t get to you, and they couldn’t get a clear shot at your dad. But you could. 

He didn’t appear to have noticed Sam and Dean’s arrival, sitting with his hands in the glowing cracks. You reach behind you and drew your gun. 

“Dad.” He looked up at you, the smile falling from his face. 

“NOO-” his scream was cut off by the bullet hitting the center of his forehead. When his body hit the ground a blast knocked you backwards, your arm no longer stuck. You landed on you back. The bright light from the cracks was gone, and darkness was sweeping over you. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very, very short chapter here, but they decide themselves when they should end. I’m in a good mood today, because I found out i got employee of the month for october :D It made me so friggin happy, having busted my ass (and my hands) doing my best, and also having working there just over one month and getting that :D But seriously, working in fast-food really wears down your hands. I have three band-aids on my hands, from today. And man, they really dry up... Anyway, more motels coming soon :)


	31. The Deadly Duel

You blinked, slowly opening your eyes. The first thing you noticed was snow falling on your face. Slowly, you sat up, holding your bleeding arm against your chest and looked around. No, not snow, ash. There were five bodies on the ground around you. Arnold, your parents and the brothers. Uncle Bill, however, was nowhere to be seen. You got to your feet, trying to see further away through the darkness that was now surrounding you. Something caught your eye at the edge of the trees. Bill was walking towards you, not a scratch on him. That wasn’t right, he should’ve been at the center of the blast, along with you and your parents. As discreetly as you could, you turned your body so he wouldn’t see your hand going for your gun. 

“Y/N! Thank god you’re okay.” What the hell? Something was wrong. Bill had been as dedicated to this whole thing as your father, and yet here he was, not even mentioning how you just stopped a plan your family had been working on for decades. And how come he wasn’t hurt?

“Uncle Bill?” He stopped just outside the inner circle. “How did you get away from the blast?” He looked behind him at the brothers. You didn’t like that he was between them and you. You should be infront of them, protecting them while they were vulnerable like this. 

“When the Winchesters showed up I realised things were going to end badly, so I got out of the line of fire. I never would’ve guessed, though, that you’d be the one to do it.” Ah, there it was. “I ran as fast as I could to the trees.” And hid, like a coward. You narrowed your eyes

“How’d you get away so fast?” He opened his mouth but not a word came out. You drew your gun and fired. The bullet hit him in the shoulder, blood splashing his suit and shoving him back a step. But he turned right back, seeming to struggle to not move toward you. You looked at the wound. Son of a bitch… The blood has already stopped flowing. 

“You fucking bastard… Did dad know?” Uncle Bill smiled, and you saw a glimpse of fangs over his teeth. Fuck. 

“What do you think, dearie?” You forced your body to stay strong and still. The wound on your arm hurt like hell, but now that you knew what he was, and he knew you knew, you had to stay focused on him. The gun would only slow him down a little.

“I think you set him up for a downfall. You didn’t want this ritual to work.” 

“Of course I didn’t. Could you imagine? Mother Earth awake in a world where all her children are banished to tartarus, and some other bitch’s kids have taken over? I never expected that to work out well. The legend of Gaia was a story passed down in our family, but your grandfather was the first one to take it seriously, and he passed it down to daddy dearest.” 

“And he believed it?” 

“Of course he did. He grew up with the stories.” He tilted his head to the side. “You remember how you asked your father about me, the first time we met?” 

“Yeah…”

“Well, while your father has known me for years, we didn’t grow up together.”  
“And why not?” He chuckled and looked at the ground. 

“Much the same reason you left your parents. I didn’t agree with our mother being killed. So I left.” 

“When were you turned?” 

“Years ago.”

“Before or after you got reacquainted with dad?”  
“After.”  
“And he didn’t notice?”

“That’s the beauty of middle age, you can appear the same age for a long time without raising suspicion.”

“And what about your work with your brother?”

“It’s true that I was the negotiator with the monsters, but somewhere along the line, I realised they had more to offer, and I could still keep offering them our family’s services, if I stayed in your dad’s good graces.” Movement behind your uncle almost made you break the eye contact, but you held steady. One wrong move would expose them. 

“So what now? Dad and mom are dead.”

“Now, I take over the company. Monsters will no longer be dependent on you father for things like organs and hunting grounds. They won’t be restricted. I’ll leave the Chicago families alone, for the small price of them keeping their business inside the boundaries of the city.” Not long now.

“You’ll allow them to walk free? Just like that?” 

“Them? Us. I’ll allow _us_ to walk free. Your father kept them, and thereby me, on a tight leash. He wasn’t as kind as he made himself out to be to you. He killed your sister, all for selfish gain.”

“And you allowed him to get himself and his wife killed. You would’ve allowed him to kill me too, wouldn’t you? But guess what, uncle?” They were right behind him now. 

“What?” 

You didn’t get to say what before his head went flying through the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was supposed to be free this weekend. Take some time to write, catch up on SPN and Outlander, maybe meet a friend or two... But as luck would have it, I got to work, because someone called in sick. Seriously, I was woken up saturday (after sleeping for 5 hours, not knowing I was gonna work) at 8 AM with someone asking if I could come in. With someone calling in sick in the morning when they’re supposed to open the restaurant it’s hard to find someone else. I felt obligated. And ended up working today as well. But hey, money money money.  
> Love you guys, you're amazing! :D


	32. Monster Oddity

You looked around at the bodies littering the ground. What had been left of your broken family was now gone. You’d never thought you’d have to actually kill your father to stop his crazy plan. Now four people were dead, and the feeling started to eat you up inside. Uncle Bill may have been a vampire, but your father had been the monster. And now you’d taken another life. You fell to your knees by your parents’ bodies. Someone else might feel like they had nothing left if their whole family had just died. You didn’t. You’d already felt it once, when Leah died and you left your parents in Sweden. You’d used up your tears for lost family. 

Sudden movement behind you reminded you of the reason you were here. You did have something, left in your life, something that had made you come here in the first place. Maybe that’s why you didn’t feel any significant loss right now. Slowly, you stood up and turned your back on the dead. They were gone, and that was that. The brothers were standing just outside the circles. Something in your heart lifted when you saw without a doubt that they were both okay. 

Your eyes caught Sam’s and something broke. You broke into a run and crashed into his arms, holding him as tightly as you could. He was safe, he was here, he’d found you just when you needed him. 

“It’s okay, Y/N,” he said, and you realised you’d been mumbling “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” into his ear as you hugged him. You pulled back to look at his face, and saw that he meant it. He’d understood why you left and didn’t blame you in the least. You eyes started to sting but you didn’t want to cry. He raised his hands to your face, holding it gently, like he was scared you were going to slip through his fingers. Slowly, he lowered his head and pressed his lips against yours. You hands scrambled to find a grip on his shoulders and you held on for dear life. The kiss was light, innocent, but so full of emotion. You felt how scared he had been, how angry, and now, how relieved he was. You tried to tell him all the reasons you had for your actions, through the kiss, and hoped he understood. Despite your best efforts, tears started running down your face. 

You slowly pulled away and opened your eyes. He was looking at you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. You felt your own mouth twitch. He lowered his hands and you turned to Dean, who was standing a bit away, looking like he was trying his damn best to not interrupt the moment between you and Sam (like he had before). You walked over to him and pulled him into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around you and you felt his face near your ear. 

“I’m glad you’re safe, Y/N.” That was, possibly, the most affection Dean had ever shown you, and not on behalf of his brother. It warmed you to the bones and made you smile. 

Suddenly, you saw black spots appear infront of you, and against your will your body started to sag against Dean. 

“Shit,” he muttered as he held you up. You felt another pair of strong hands grip you from behind, safe in the knowledge that the Winchesters would take care of you, and it was totally okay to pass out right now. So you did. 

––––––

There was an annoying beeping sound right next to you. Why the fucking hell had you put your alarm on? It’s not like you had a job to get to. You tried to pry open your eyes and immediately regretted it as your head started to pound. Your mouth was dry and you felt like… well, death. Then you heard another sound, whispers, by your feet. Against better judgement, you opened your eyes again and saw Sam and Dean standing by the foot of what looked like a hospital bed. Something drew their attention to you, maybe your altered breathing, or movement, and they turned to you, twin looks of concern and worry on their faces. 

“Hey there,” Dean said. Sam walked around to your right side and took your hand in his. Your eyes locked with his. 

“Wha… What happened?” you croaked out. Your throat was wickedly sore and it hurt to speak. 

“You passed out from the blood loss. We didn’t think it was that bad, since you were up and walking, but you must have lost a lot because you dropped like a stone,” Dean explained and came over to your other side. Your brain felt fuzzy, trying to understand why you hadn’t just stayed down the first time you passed out. 

“We don’t know why you woke up after the blast,” Sam said, reading the confusion on your face. “It could’ve been the magic, or just pure survival instinct.” Not having the energy to argue, and also not finding another explanation, you just nodded weakly. 

“Where are we?” 

“Hospital, in the town near the… The stone rings.”  
“Did you bring my baby?” Dean smiled understandingly. 

“We went back for her as soon as we knew you were stabile and would live.” You smiled back. 

“Thank you.” 

“Anytime, Dorothy.” The nickname made you chuckle. Which hurt. 

Your stay in the hospital continued for two more days before you were deemed healthy enough to leave. They’d had to give you several blood transfusions when you came in, and you’d been out for about two days. A lot of lost time. When the time came to leave for the bunker you were still not strong enough to drive, so you reluctantly handed over the keys to Dean. He swore up and down that he would drive your baby safely. You thought he might actually be scared of what you’d do to him if he didn’t, even being as weak as you were. During the drive back to Kansas you sat leaned up against Sam, who was driving the chevy, slumbering on and off. The two of you didn’t talk, just enjoyed each other. 

After waking in the hospital up you’d taken some time to think about what to do next. Your life wasn’t in danger anymore, so you didn’t have any practical reasons to stay in the bunker anymore. Before you and Mica had parted ways you’d lived your life on the road. It was what you knew nowadays, and you felt an itch to pick up where you left off. Then there was the matter of your father’s company, and the underground monster organisation. You felt the responsibility hang over you like a dark cloud. You couldn’t be sure that it was dismantled just because your father and uncle were dead. What if someone took it upon themselves to start it back up? During the ride you made your decision, and fought to hold back tears as you snuggled closer to Sam’s warm body. 

The bunker didn’t feel the same as it did when you first got there. The first time had felt like it was a safe haven, and you were blown away by what the brothers actually had. While you knew your time there wasn’t indefinite, it kinda felt like you belonged. You’d liked that. Now, when you heaved your sagging body out of the chevy, you only saw everything you’d miss. You couldn’t bring yourself to look either of the Winchesters in the eye as you shuffled down the hall to your room and crashed on the bed. Not wanting to deal with it right then, you let sleep take you into darkness. 

You woke up feeling very stiff, having been in the same position for hours, so exhausted you didn’t even move in your sleep. Slowly, reluctantly, you pulled yourself up, grabbed a change of clothes and headed to the bathroom. The shower did wonders for your stiff limbs and you stayed in longer than usual. You didn’t want to do this. You hated it. But you had to. 

Back in your room you packed up, even lighter than when you’d left your apartment in Oregon. All done, you went out to find the brothers. Unsurprisingly, you found them in the kitchen, beers infront of them on the table. They looked up when you walked in, smiles on their faces that quickly dimmed when they saw the serious look on yours. 

“No,” Sam said, standing up. Tears filled your eyes. 

“Yes,” you said back. 

“No, not again.” 

“Sam,” a sob tore through your chest. Dean stood up. 

“What’s going on, Y/N?” You looked at him. 

“I’m leaving.” Dean’s face became a stone cold mask. He was angry. 

“The hell you are.” His voice was deep, almost a growl. 

“The hell if you have any say in it.” You turned back to Sam. 

“I can’t stay here, you know that.”  
“No, I don’t.” Stubborn ass.

“Yes, you fucking do, Sam. I can’t leave my family’s business intact for someone else to pick up. It has to stop, for good, otherwise there’ll be another potentially world ending disaster to deal with.”

“You’re not going alone then.”  
“Yes, I am.”

“Y/N!” 

“Sam, this is mine to deal with. I don’t want to leave, anymore than last time. I want to stay, I don’t want to lose you. Or you, Dean,” you said and looked at Dean. “But this is how it’s got to be. It’s not some self sacrificing bullshit going on, I can promise you that, or me upholding some kind of honour. I’m not doing it alone to keep you safe, gods know you two don’t need protection, from anything. I’m doing it alone because, like I said, it’s mine to deal with.

“Listen,” you said when you saw they wanted to interrupt. “I live on the road. After Leah, I wasn’t tied down, and I can’t be ever again.” You looked back at Sam. He had tears in his eyes. You brought your hands up to his face. You didn’t say the words, didn’t want to. He saw it anyway. 

You turned away, choosing not to kiss him one last time. You gave them both one last look before you headed back to your room to grab your bags. In the garage you didn’t waste any time, but packed up your baby and turned the key, feeling her roar to life. You turned to look at the door, not knowing what to expect. Nothing. They weren’t there. You turned back around, revved the engine and sped out of there. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it. This is the end of Motels. This was always going to happen, from the start.   
> It’s been amazing to write this, and even more so to read the response and reviews :) I’m going to keep writing, I might even take a dip in revisiting Motels in the future.   
> Yours truly,  
> RockyAlex


End file.
